. 

, 


••=$*•• 


THE 


Jf  G  V 


RUDDER   GRANGERS 
ABROAD 


AND   OTHER   STORIES 


BY 


FRANK   R.  STOCKTON 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1891 


COPYRIGHT,   1891, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS, 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  EUPHEMIA    AMONG    THE    PELICANS 1 

II.  THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND  ....  32 

III.  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER 53 

IV.  DERELICT 78 

V.  THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY 135 

VI.  THE  WATER-DEVIL  .  14G 


269282 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS, 


THE  sun  shone  warm  and  soft,  as  it  shines  in 
winter  time  in  the  semi-tropics.  The  wind  blew 
strong,  as  it  blows  whenever  and  wherever  it  listeth. 
Seven  pelicans  labored  slowly  through  the  air.  A 
flock  of  ducks  rose  from  the  surface  of  the  river. 
A  school  of  mullet,  disturbed  by  a  shark,  or  some 
other  unscrupulous  pursuer,  sprang  suddenly  out  of 
the  water  just  before  us,  and  fell  into  it  again  like 
the  splashing  of  a  sudden  shower. 

I  lay  upon  the  roof  of  the  cabin  of  a  little  yacht. 
Euphemia  stood  below,  her  feet  upon  the  mess-chest, 
and  her  elbows  resting  on  the  edge  of  the  cabin  roof. 
A  sudden  squall  would  have  unshipped  her ;  still,  if 
one  would  be  happy,  there  are  risks  that  must  be 
assumed.  At  the  open  entrance  of  the  cabin,  busily 
writing  on  a  hanging-shelf  that  served  as  a  table,  sat 
a  Paying  Teller.  On  the  high  box  which  during  most 
of  the  day  covered  our  stove  was  a  little  lady,  writing 
in  a  note-book.  On  the  forward  deck,  at  the  foot  of 
the  mast,  sat  a  young  man  in  a  state  of  placidness. 
His  feet  stuck  out  on  the  bowsprit,  while  his  mildly 
contemplative  eyes  went  forth  unto  the  roundabout. 

1 


AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

At  the  tiller  stood  our  guide  and  boatman,  his  sombre 
eye  steady  on  the  south-by-east.  Around  the  horizon 
of  his  countenance  there  spread  a  dark  and  six-days' 
beard,  like  a  slowly  rising  thunder-cloud;  ever  and 
anon  there  was  a  gleam  of  white  teeth,  like  a  bright 
break  in  the  sky,  but  it  meant  nothing.  During  all 
our  trip,  the  sun  never  shone  in  that  face.  It  never 
stormed,  but  it  was  always  cloudy.  But  he  was  the 
best  boatman  on  those  waters,  and  when  he  stood  at 
the  helm  we  knew  we  sailed  secure.  We  wanted  a 
man  familiar  with  storms  and  squalls,  and  if  this 
familiarity  had  developed  into  facial  sympathy,  it 
mattered  not.  We  could  attend  to  our  own  sunshine. 
At  his  feet  sat  humbly  his  boy  of  twelve,  whom  we 
called  "  the  crew/'  He  was  making  fancy  knots  in  a 
bit  of  rope.  This  and  the  occupation  of  growing  up 
were  the  only  labors  in  which  he  willingly  engaged. 

Euphemia  and  I  had  left  Eudder  Grange,  to  spend 
a  month  or  two  in  Florida,  and  we  were  now  on  a 
little  sloop-yacht  on  the  bright  waters  of  the  Indian 
River.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that,  because  we 
had  a  Paying  Teller  with  us,  we  had  set  up  a  floating 
bank.  With  this  Paying  Teller,  from  a  distant  State, 
we  had  made  acquaintance  on  our  first  entrance  into 
Florida.  He  was  travelling  in  what  Euphemia  called 
"a  group,"  which  consisted  of  his  wife,  —  the  little 
lady  with  the  note-book,  —  the  contemplative  young 
man  on  the  forward  deck,  and  himself. 

This  Paying  Teller  had  worked  so  hard  and  so  rap 
idly  at  his  business  for  several  years,  and  had  paid 
out  so  much  of  his  health  and  strength,  t"hat  it  was 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  3 

necessary  for  him  to  receive  large  deposits  of  these 
essentials  before  he  could  go  to  work  again.  But  the 
peculiar  habits  of  his  profession  never  left  him.  He 
was  continually  paying  out  something.  If  you  pre 
sented  a  conversational  check  to  him  in  the  way  of  a 
remark,  he  would,  figuratively  speaking,  immediately 
jump  to  his  little  window  and  proceed  to  cash  it, 
sometimes  astonishing  you  by  the  amount  of  small 
change  he  would  spread  out  before  you. 

When  he  heard  of  our  intention  to  cruise  on  Indian 
River  he  wished  to  join  his  group  to  our  party,  and 
as  he  was  a  good  fellow  we  were  glad  to  have  him 
do  so.  His  wife  had  been,  or  was  still,  a  school 
teacher.  Her  bright  and  cheerful  face  glistened  with 
information. 

The  contemplative  young  man  was  a  distant  con 
nection  of  the  Teller,  and  his  first  name  being  Quincy, 
was  commonly  called  Quee.  If  he  had  wanted  to  know 
any  of  the  many  things  the  little  teacher  wished  to 
tell  he  would  have  been  a  happy  youth ;  but  his  con 
templation  seldom  crystallized  into  a  knowledge  of 
what  he  did  want  to  know. 

"  And  how  can  I,"  she  once  said  to  Euphemia  and 
myself,  "be  expected  ever  to  offer  him  any  light 
when  he  can  never  bring  himself  to  actually  roll  up 
a  question  ?  " 

This  was  said  while  I  was  rolling  a  cigarette. 

The  group  was  greatly  given  to  writing  in  jour 
nals,  and  making  estimates.  Euphemia  and  I  did 
little  of  this,  as  it  was  our  holiday,  but  it  was  often 
pleasant  to  see  the  work  going  on.  The  business  in 


4  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

which  the  Paying  Teller  was  now  engaged  was  the 
writing  of  his  journal,  and  his  wife  held  a  pencil  in 
her  kidded  fingers  and  a  little  blank-book  on  her  knees. 

This  was  our  first  day  upon  the  river. 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  asked  Euphemia.  "  I  know  we 
are  on  the  Indian  River,  but  where  is  the  Indian 
River  ?  " 

"It  is  here,"  I  said. 

"  But  where  is  here  ?  "  reiterated  Eupheinia. 

"  There  are  only  three  places  in  the  world,"  said  the 
teacher,  looking  up  from  her  book, —  "here,  there, 
and  we  don't  know  where.  Every  spot  on  earth  is  in 
one  or  the  other  of  those  three  places." 

"As  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  Euphemia,  "the 
Indian  Kiver  is  in  the  last  place." 

"Then  we  must  hasten  to  take  it  out,"  said  the 
teacher,  and  she  dived  into  the  cabin,  soon  reappear 
ing  with  a  folding  map  of  Florida.  "  Here,"  she  said, 
"  do  you  see  that  wide  river  running  along  part  of  the 
Atlantic  coast  of  the  State,  and  extending  down  as  far 
as  Jupiter  Inlet  ?  That  is  Indian  River,  and  we  are 
on  it.  Its  chief  characteristics  are  that  it  is  not  a 
river,  but  an  arm  of  the  sea,  and  that  it  is  full  of  fish." 

"It  seems  to  me  to  be  so  full,"  said  I,  "that  there 
is  not  room  for  them  all  —  that  is,  if  we  are  to  judge 
by  the  way  the  mullet  jump  out." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  teacher,  making  a  spot  with  her 
pencil  on  the  map,  "  that  just  now  we  are  about  here." 

"  It  is  the  first  time,"  said  Euphemia,  "  that  I  ever 
looked  upon  an  unknown  region  on  the  map,  and  felt 
I  was  there." 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  5 

Our  plans  for  travel  and  living  were  very  simple. 
We  had  provided  ourselves  on  starting  with  provisions 
for  several  weeks,  and  while  on  the  river  we  cooked 
and  ate  on  board  our  little  vessel.  When  we  reached 
Jupiter  Inlet  we  intended  to  go  into  camp.  Every 
night  we  anchored  near  the  shore.  Euphemia  and  I 
occupied  the  cabin  of  the  boat ;  a  tent  was  pitched  on 
shore  for  the  Teller  and  his  wife ;  there  was  another 
tent  for  the  captain  and  his  boy,  and  this  was  shared 
by  the  contemplative  young  man. 

Our  second  night  on  the  river  was  tinged  with  inci 
dent.  We  had  come  to  anchor  near  a  small  settle 
ment,  and  our  craft  had  been  moored  to  a  rude  wharf. 
About  the  middle  of  the  night  a  wind-storm  arose,  and 
Euphemia  and  I  were  awakened  by  the  bumping  of 
the  boat  against  the  wharf -posts.  Through  the  open 
end  of  the  cabin  I  could  see  that  the  night  was  very 
dark,  and  I  began  to  consider  the  question  whether  or 
not  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  get  up,  much  pre 
ferring,  however,  that  the  wind  should  go  down.  Be 
fore  I  had  made  up  my  mind  we  heard  a  step  on  the 
cabin  above  us,  and  then  a  quick  and  hurried  tramp 
ing.  I  put  my  head  out  of  the  little  window  by  me, 
and  cried  — 

"Who's  there?" 

The  voice  of  the  boatman  replied  out  of  the  dark 
ness  :  — 

"She'll  bump  herself  to  pieces  against  this  pier! 
I'm  going  to  tow  you  out  into  the  stream."  And  so 
he  cast  us  loose,  and  getting  into  the  little  boat  which 
was  fastened  to  our  stern,  and  always  followed  us  as 


6  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

a  colt  its  mother,  he  towed  us  far  out  into  the  stream. 
There  he  anchored  us,  and  rowed  away.  The  bumps 
now  ceased,  but  the  wind  still  blew  violently,  the 
waves  ran  high,  and  the  yacht  continually  wobbled  up 
and  down,  tugging  and  jerking  at  her  anchor.  Neither 
of  us  was  frightened,  but  we  could  not  sleep. 

"  I  know  nothing  can  happen,"  said  Euphemia,  "  for 
he  would  not  have  left  us  here  if  everything  had  not 
been  all  right,  but  one  might  as  well  try  to  sleep  in  a 
corn-popper  as  in  this  bed." 

After  a  while  the  violent  motion  ceased,  and  there 
was  nothing  but  a  gentle  surging  up  and  down. 

"  I  am  so  glad  the  wind  has  lulled,"  said  Euphemia, 
from  the  other  side  of  the  centre-board  partition  which 
partially  divided  the  cabin. 

Although  I  could  still  hear  the  wind  blowing  strongly 
outside,  I  too  was  glad  that  its  force  had  diminished 
so  far  that  we  felt  no  more  the  violent  jerking  that 
had  disturbed  us,  and  I  soon  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning,  when  I  awoke,  I  saw  that  the  sun 
was  shining  brightly,  and  that  a  large  sea-grape  bush 
was  hanging  over  our  stern.  I  sprang  out  of  bed,  and 
found  that  we  had  run,  stern  foremost,  upon  a  sandy 
beach.  About  forty  feet  away,  upon  the  shore,  stood 
two  'possums,  gazing  with  white,  triangular  faces 
upon  our  stranded  craft.  Except  these,  and  some 
ducks  swimming  near  us,  with  seven  pelicans  flying 
along  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  there  was  no  sign 
of  life  within  the  range  of  my  sight.  I  was  not  long 
in  understanding  the  situation.  It  had  not  been  the 
lulling  of  the  storm,  but  the  parting  of  our  cable  which 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  7 

had  caused  the  uneasy  jerking  of  our  little  yacht  to 
cease.  We  had  been  blown  I  knew  not  how  far  down 
the  river,  for  the  storm  had  t3ome  from  the  north,  and 
had  stranded  I  knew  not  where.  Taking  out  my 
pocket-compass  I  found  that  we  were  on  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  river,  and  that  the  wind  had  changed 
completely,  and  was  now  blowing,  not  very  strong, 
from  the  southeast.  I  made  up  my  mind  what  must 
be  done.  We  were  probably  far  from  the  settlement 
and  the  rest  of  the  party,  and  we  must  go  back.  The 
wind  was  in  our  favor,  and  I  knew  I  could  sail  the 
boat.  I  had  never  sailed  a  boat  in  my  life,  and  was 
only  too  glad  to  have  the  opportunity,  untrammelled 
by  any  interference. 

I  awoke  Euphemia  and  told  her  what  had  happened. 
The  two  'possums  stood  upon  the  shore,  and  listened 
to  our  coversation.  Euphemia  was  much  impressed 
by  the  whole  affair,  and  for  a  time  said  nothing. 

"  We  must  sail  her  back,  I  suppose/'  she  remarked 
at  length,  "but  do  you  know  how  to  start  her?" 

"  The  hardest  thing  to  do  is  to  get  her  off  the  beach," 
I  answered,  "but  I  think  I  can  do  that." 

I  rolled  up  my  trousers,  and  with  bare  feet  jumped 
out  upon  the  sand.  The  two  'possums  retired  a  little, 
but  still  watched  my  proceedings.  After  a  great  deal 
of  pushing  and  twisting  and  lifting,  I  got  the  yacht 
afloat,  and  then  went  on  board  to  set  the  sail.  After 
much  pulling  and  tugging,  and  making  myself  very 
warm,  I  hoisted  the  main-sail.  I  did  not  trouble 
myself  about  the  jib,  one  sail  being  enough  for  me  to 
begin  with.  As  the  wind  was  blowing  in  the  direction 


8  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

in  which,  we  wished  to  go,  I  let  the  sail  out  until  it 
stood  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the  vessel,  and  was 
delighted  to  see  that  wa  immediately  began  to  move 
through  the  water.  I  took  the  tiller,  and  steered 
gradually  toward  the  middle  of  the  river.  The  wind 
blew  steadily,  and  the  yacht  moved  bravely  on.  I  was 
as  proud  as  a  man  drawn  by  a  conquered  lion,  and  as 
happy  as  one  who  did  not  know  that  conquered  lions 
may  turn  and  rend.  Sometimes  the  vessel  rolled  so 
much  that  the  end  of  the  boom  skimmed  the  surface 
of  the  water,  and  sometimes  the  sail  gave  a  little  jerk 
and  flap,  but  I  saw  no  necessity  for  changing  our 
course,  and  kept  our  bow  pointed  steadily  up  the  river. 
I  was  delighted  that  the  direction  of  the  wind  enabled 
me  to  sail  with  what  might  be  called  a  horizontal 
deck.  Of  course,  as  the  boatman  afterward  informed 
me,  this  was  the  most  dangerous  way  I  could  steer, 
for  if  the  sail  should  suddenly  "jibe,"  there  would 
be  no  knowing  what  would  happen.  Euphemia  sat 
near  me,  perfectly  placid  and  cheerful,  and  her  abso 
lute  trust  in  me  gave  me  renewed  confidence  and 
pleasure.  "There  is  one  great  comfort,"  she  remarked, 
as  she  sat  gazing  into  the  water,  —  "  if  anything  should 
happen  to  the  boat,  we  can  get  out  and  walk." 

There  was  force  in  this  remark,  for  the  Indian 
River  in  some  of  its  widest  parts  is  very  shallow, 
and  we  could  now  plainly  see  the  bottom,  a  few  feet 
below  us. 

"  Is  that  the  reason  you  have  seemed  so  trustful  and 
content  ?  "  I  asked. 

"That  is  the  reason,"  said  Euphemia. 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  9 

On  we  went  and  on,  the  yacht  seeming  sometimes 
a  little  restive  and  impatient,  and  sometimes  rolling 
more  than  I  could  see  any  necessity  for,  but  still  it 
proceeded.  Euphemia  sat  in  the  shadow  of  the  cabin, 
serene  and  thoughtful,  and  I,  holding  the  tiller  steadily 
amidship,  leaned  back  and  gazed  up  into  the  clear 
blue  sky. 

In  the  midst  of  my  gazing  there  came  a  shock  that 
knocked  the  tiller  out  of  my  hand.  Euphemia  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  screamed;  there  were  screams  and 
shouts  on  the  other  side  of  the  sail,  which  seemed  to 
be  wrapping  itself  about  some  object  I  could  not  see. 
In  an  instant  another  mast  beside  our  own  appeared 
above  the  main-sail,  and  then  a  man  with  a  red  face 
jumped  on  the  forward  deck.  With  a  quick,  deter 
mined  air,  and  without  saying  a  word,  or  seeming  to 
care  for  my  permission,  he  proceeded  to  lower  our  sail ; 
then  he  stepped  up  on  top  of  the  cabin,  and  looking 
down  at  me,  inquired  what  in  thunder  I  was  trying 
to  do. 

I  made  no  answer,  but  looked  steadily  before  me. 
Now  that  the  sail  was  down,  I  could  see  what  had 
happened.  I  had  collided  with  a  yacht  which  we  had 
seen  before.  It  was  larger  than  ours,  and  contained  a 
grandfather  and  a  grandmother,  a  father  and  a  mother, 
several  aunts,  and  a  great  many  children.  They  had 
started  on  the  river  the  same  day  as  ourselves,  but  did 
not  intend  to  take  so  extended  a  trip  as  ours  was 
to  be.  The  whole  party  was  now  in  the  greatest 
confusion.  I  did  not  understand  what  they  said,  nor 
did  I  attend  to  it.  I  was  endeavoring,  for  my  self ,  to 


10  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

grasp  the  situation.  Euphemia  was  calling  to  me 
from  the  cabin,  into  which  she  had  retreated;  the 
man  was  still  talking  to  me  from  the  cabin  roof,  and 
the  people  in  the  other  boat  were  vociferating  and 
screaming;  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  any  one  until  I 
had  satisfied  myself  that  nothing  serious  had  hap 
pened.  I  had  not  run  into  them  head  on,  but  had 
come  up  diagonally,  and  the  side  of  our  bow  had 
struck  the  side  of  their  stern.  The  collision,  as  I 
afterward  learned,  had  happened  in  this  wise :  I  had 
not  seen  the  other  boat  because,  lying  back  as  I  had 
been,  the  sail  concealed  her  from  me,  and  they  had  not 
seen  us  because  their  boatman  was  in  the  forward 
part  of  their  cabin,  collecting  materials  for  breakfast, 
and  the  tiller  was  left  in  charge  of  one  of  the  boys, 
who,  like  all  the  rest  of  his  party  who  sat  outside,  had 
discreetly  turned  his  back  to  the  sun. 

The  grandfather  stood  up  in  the  stern.  He  wore  a 
black  silk  hat,  and  carried  a  heavy  grape-vine  cane. 
Unsteadily  balancing  himself  on  his  legs,  and  shaking 
his  cane  at  me,  he  cried :  — 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  sir  ?  Are  you  try 
ing  to  drown  a  whole  family,  sir  ?  " 

"  If  he'd  run  his  bowsprit  in  among  you,"  said  the 
boatman  from  the  cabin  roof,  "  he'd  'a'  killed  a  lot  of 
you  before  you'd  been  drowned." 

Euphemia  screamed  to  me  to  come  to  her;  the 
father  was  standing  on  his  cabin  roof,  shouting  some 
thing  to  me ;  the  women  in  the  other  boat  were  vio 
lently  talking  among  themselves ;  some  of  the  little 
children  were  crying ;  the  girls  were  hanging  to  the 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  11 

ladies,  and  all  the  boys  were  clambering  on  board  our 
boat.  It  was  a  time  of  great  excitement,  and  some 
thing  must  be  instantly  said  by  me.  My  decision  was 
quick. 

"  Have  you  any  tea  ? "  I  said,  addressing  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  Tea ! "  he  roared.    "  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"We  have  plenty  of  coffee  on  board/'  I  answered, 
"but  some  of  our  party  can't  drink  it.  If  you  have 
any  tea,  I  should  like  to  borrow  some.  I  can  send  it 
to  you  when  we  reach  a  store." 

From  every  person  of  the  other  party  came,  as  in  a 
chorus,  the  one  word,  "  Tea  ?  "  And  Euphemia  put 
her  pale  face  out  of  the  cabin,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of 
wondering  inquiry,  "  Tea  ?  " 

"  Did  you  bang  into  us  this  way  to  borrow  tea  ?  " 
roared  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  did  not  intend,  of  course,  to  strike  you  so  hard," 
I  said,  "  and  I  am  sorry  I  did  so,  but  I  should  like  to 
borrow  some  tea." 

Euphemia  whispered  to  me :  — 

"We  have  tea." 

I  looked  at  her,  and  she  locked  her  lips. 

"  Of  course  we  can  give  you  some  tea,  if  you  want 
some,"  said  the  red-faced  boatman,  "  but  I  never  heerd 
of  a  thing  like  this  since  I  was  first  born,  nor  ever  shall 
again,  I  hope." 

"I  don't  want  you  to  give  me  any  tea,"  I  said. 
"I  shall  certainly  return  it,  and  a  very  little  will  do  — 
just  a  handful." 

The  two  boats  had  not  drifted  apart,  for  the  father, 


12  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

standing  on  the  cabin  roof,  had  held  tightly  to  our 
rigging,  and  the  boatman,  still  muttering,  went  on 
board  his  vessel  to  get  the  tea.  He  brought  it,  wrapped 
in  a  piece  of  a  newspaper. 

"  Here  comes  your  man,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  little 
boat  which  was  approaching  us.  "  We  told  him  we'd 
look  out  for  you,  but  we  didn't  think  you'd  come 
smashing  into  us  like  this." 

In  a  few  moments  our  boatman  had  pulled  along 
side,  his  face  full  of  a  dark  inquiry.  He  looked  at  me 
for  authoritative  information. 

"  I  came  here,"  I  said  to  him,  "  after  tea." 

"  Before  breakfast,  I  should  say ! "  cried  the  old  gen 
tleman.  And  every  one  of  his  party  burst  out  laughing. 

Much  was  now  said,  chiefly  by  the  party  of  the 
other  part,  but  our  boatman  paid  little  attention  to 
any  of  it.  The  boys  scrambled  on  board  their  own 
vessel.  We  pushed  apart,  hoisted  sail,  and  were  soon 
speeding  away. 

"Good  bye!"  shouted  the  father,  a  genial  man. 
"  Let  us  know  if  you  want  any  more  groceries,  and 
we'll  send  them  to  you." 

For  six  days  from  our  time  of  starting  we  sailed 
down  the  Indian  Eiver.  Sometimes  the  banks  were 
miles  apart,  and  sometimes  they  were  very  near  each 
other;  sometimes  we  would  come  upon  a  solitary 
house,  or  little  cluster  of  dwellings ;  and  then  there 
would  be  many,  many  miles  of  wooded  shore  before 
another  human  habitation  was  to  be  seen.  Inland,  to 
the  west,  stretched  a  vast  expanse  of  lonely  forest 
where  panthers,  bears,  and  wild-cats  prowled.  To  the 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  13 

east  lay  a  long  strip  of  land,  through  whose  tall  pal- 
mettoes  came  the  roar  of  the  great  ocean.  The  blue 
sky  sparkled  over  us  every  day ;  now  and  then  we  met 
a  little  solitary  craft ;  countless  water-fowl  were  scat 
tered  about  on  the  surface  of  the  stream ;  a  school  of 
mullet  was  usually  jumping  into  the  air ;  an  alligator 
might  sometimes  be  seen  steadily  swimming  across 
the  river,  with  only  his  nose  and  back  exposed ;  and 
nearly  always,  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  going 
north  or  going  south,  were  seven  pelicans,  slowly  flop 
ping  through  the  air. 

A  portion  of  the  river,  far  southward,  called  "The 
Narrows,"  presented  a  very  peculiar  scene.  The  banks 
were  scarcely  fifty  feet  apart,  and  yet  there  were  no 
banks.  The  river  was  shut  in  to  the  right  by  the 
inland  shore,  and  to  the  left  by  a  far-reaching  island, 
and  yet  there  was  no  inland  shore,  nor  any  island  to 
the  left.  On  either  side  were  great  forests  of  man 
grove  trees>  standing  tiptoe  on  their  myriad  down- 
dropping  roots,  each  root  midleg  in  the  water.  As 
far  as  we  could  see  among  the  trees,  there  was  no  sign 
of  ground  of  any  kind  —  nothing  but  a  grotesque  net 
work  of  roots,  on  which  the  forest  stood.  In  this 
green-bordered  avenue  of  water,  which  extended  nine 
or  ten  miles,  the  thick  foliage  shut  out  the  breeze,  and 
our  boatman  was  obliged  to  go  ahead  in  his  little  boat 
and  tow  us  along. 

"There  are  Indians  out  West,"  said  Euphemia,  as 
she  sat  gazing  into  the  mangroves,  "  who  live  on  roots, 
but  I  don't  believe  they  could  live  on  these.  The  pap- 
pooses  would  certainly  fall  through." 


14  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

At  Jupiter  Inlet,  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  our  point  of  starting,  we  went  into  carnp,  in 
which  delightful  condition  we  proposed  to  remain  for 
a  week  or  more.  There  was  no  trouble  whatever  in 
finding  a  suitable  place  for  a  camp.  The  spot  selected 
was  a  point  of  land  swept  by  cool  breezes,  with  a  pal 
metto  forest  in  the  rear  of  it.  On  two  sides  of  the 
point  stretched  the  clear  waters  of  the  river,  while 
half  a  mile  to  the  east  was  Jupiter  Inlet,  on  each  side 
of  which  rolled  and  tumbled  the  surf  of  the  Atlantic. 
About  a  mile  away  was  Jupiter  Light-house,  the  only 
human  habitation  within  "twenty  miles.  We  built  a 
palmetto  hut  for  a  kitchen;  we  set  up  the  tents  in 
a  permanent  way ;  we  constructed  a  little  pier  for  the 
yacht ;  we  built  a  wash-stand,  a  table,  and  a  bench . 
And  then,  considering  that  we  had  actually  gone  into 
camp,  we  got  out  our  fishing-lines. 

Fishing  was  to  be  the  great  work  here.  Near  the 
Inlet,  through  which  the  waters  of  the  ocean  poured 
into  and  out  of  our  river,  on  a  long,  sandy  beach,  we 
stood  in  line,  two  or  three  hours  every  day  except 
Sunday,  and  fished.  Such  fishing  we  had  never  im 
agined  !  —  there  were  so  many  fishes,  and  they  were 
so  big.  The  Paying  Teller  had  never  fished  in  his  life 
before  he  came  to  Florida.  He  had  tried  at  St.  Augus 
tine,  with  but  little  success.  "  If  the  sport  had  been 
to  chuck  fish  into  the  river,"  he  had  said,  "  that  would 
be  more  in  my  line  of  business ;  but  getting  them  out 
of  it  did  not  seem  to  suit  me."  But  here  it  was  quite 
a  different  thing.  It  was  a  positive  delight  to  him,  he 
said,  to  be  obliged  so  often  to  pay  out  his  line. 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  15 

One  day,  when  tired  of  struggling  with  gamy  blue- 
fish  and  powerful  cavalios  (if  that  is  the  way  to 
spell  it),  I  wound  up  my  line,  and  looked  about  to  see 
what  the  others  were  doing.  The  Paying  Teller  stood 
near,  on  tiptoe,  as  usual,  with  his  legs  wide  apart,  his 
hat  thrown  back,  his  eyes  flashing  over  the  water,  and 
his  right  arm  stretched  far  out,  ready  for  a  jerk.  Quee 
was  farther  along  the  beach.  He  had  just  landed  a 
fish,  and  was  standing  gazing  meditatively  upon  it  as 
it  lay  upon  the  sand.  The  hook  was  still  in  its  mouth, 
and  every  now  and  then  he  would  give  the  line  a  little 
pull,  as  if  to  see  if  there  really  was  a  connection 
between  it  and  the  fish.  Then  he  would  stand  a  little 
longer,  and  meditate  a  little  more,  still  looking  alter 
nately  at  the  line  and  the  fish.  Having  made  up  his 
mind,  at  last,  that  the  two  things  must  be  separated, 
he  kneeled  down  upon  his  flopping  prize  and  proceeded 
meditatively  to  extract  the  hook.  The  teacher  was 
struggling  at  her  line.  Hand  over  hand  she  pulled  it 
in.  As  it  came  nearer  and  nearer,  her  fish  swam  wildly 
from  side  to  side,  making  the  tightened  line  fairly  hiss 
as  it  swept  through  the  water.  But  still  she  pulled 
and  pulled,  until,  red  and  breathless,  she  landed  her 
prize  upon  the  sand. 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  the  Paying  Teller.  "  That's 
the  biggest  blue-fish  yet ! "  But  he  did  not  come  to 
take  the  fish  from  the  hook.  He  was  momentarily 
expecting  a  bite. 

Euphemia  was  not  to  be  seen.  This  did  not  sur 
prise  me,  as  she  frequently  gave  up  fishing  long  before 
the  others,  and  went  to  stroll  upon  the  sea-beach,  a 


16  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

few  hundred  yards  away.  She  was  fond  of  fishing, 
but  it  soon  tired  her.  "  If  you  want  to  know  what  it 
is  like,"  she  wrote  to  a  friend  in  the  North,  "  just  tie 
a  long  string  around  your  boy  Charlie,  and  try  to  haul 
him  out  of  the  back  yard  into  the  house." 

But  Euphemia  was  not  upon  the  sea-beach  to-day. 
I  walked  a  mile  or  so  along  the  sand,  but  did  not  find 
her.  She  had  gone  around  the  little  bluff  to  our  shark- 
line.  This  was  a  long  rope,  like  a  clothes-line,  with  a 
short  chain  at  the  end  and  a  great  hook,  which  was 
baited  with  a  large  piece  of  fish.  It  was  thrown  out 
every  day,  the  land  end  tied  to  a  stout  stake  driven  into 
the  sand,  and  the  whole  business  given  into  the  charge 
of  "the  crew,"  who  was  to  report  if  a  shark  should 
bite.  But  to-day  the  little  rascal  had  wandered  away, 
and  Euphemia  was  managing  the  line. 

"  I  thought  I  would  try  to  catch  a  shark  all  by  my 
self,"  she  said.  "  I  wonder  if  there's  one  on  the  hook 
now.  Would  you  mind  feeling  the  line  ?  " 

I  laughed  as  I  took  the  rope  from  her  hand. 

"  If  you  had  a  shark  on  the  hook,  my  dear,"  said  I, 
"you  would  have  no  doubt  upon  the  subject." 

"It  would  be  a  splendid  thing  to  catch  the  first 
one,"  she  said,  "and  there  must  be  lots  of  them  in 
here,  for  we  have  seen  their  back  fins  so  often." 

I  was  about  to  answer  this  remark  when  I  began  to 
walk  out  into  the  water.  .1  did  not  at  the  time  know 
exactly  why  I  did  this,  but  it  seemed  as  if  some  one 
had  taken  me  by  the  hand  and  was  leading  me  into  the 
depths.  But  the  water  splashing  above  my  ankles 
and  a  scream  from  Euphemia  made  me  drop  the  line, 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  17 

which  immediately  spun  out  to  its  full  length,  making 
the  stake  creak  and  move  in  the  sand. 

"  Goodness  gracious ! "  cried  Euphemia,  her  face 
pale  as  the  beach.  "  Isn't  it  horrible  ?  We've  got 
one  ! " 

"Horrible!"  I  cried.  "Didn't  you  want  to  get 
one  ?  "  and  seizing  the  axe,  which  lay  near  by,  I  drove 
the  stake  deep  down  into  the  sand.  "Now  it  will 
hold  him  ! "  I  cried.  "  He  can't  pull  that  out ! " 

"But  how  are  we  to  pull  him  in?"  exclaimed 
Euphemia.  "  This  line  is  as  tight  as  a  guitar-string." 

This  was  true.  I  took  hold  of  the  rope,  but  could 
make  no  impression  on  it.  Suddenly  it  slackened  in 
my  hand. 

"Hurrah!"  I  cried,  "we  may  have  him  yet!  But 
we  must  play  him." 

"Play  him!"  exclaimed  Euphemia.  "You  can 
never  play  a  huge  creature  like  that.  Let  me  go  and 
call  some  of  the  others  to  help." 

"No,  no!"  I  said.  "Perhaps  we  can  do  it  all  by 
ourselves.  Wind  the  line  quickly  around  the  top  of 
the  stake  as  I  pull  it  in." 

Euphemia  knelt  down  and  rapidly  wound  several 
yards  of  the  slack  cord  around  the  stake.  In  a  few 
moments  it  tightened  again,  jerking  itself  out  of  my 
hand. 

"There,  now!"  said  Euphemia.  "He  is  off  again! 
You  can  never  haul  him  in,  now." 

"Just  wait,"  I  said.  "When  he  finds  that  he  cannot 
break  away  he  rushes  toward  shore,  trying  to  bite  the 
line  above  the  chain.  Then  I  must  haul  it  in  and  you 


18  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

must  wind  it  up.  If  you  and  I  and  the  shark  continue 
to  act  in  this  way,  perhaps,  after  a  time,  we  may 
get  him  into  shallow  water.  But  don't  scream  or 
shout.  I  don't  want  the  others  to  know  anything 
about  it." 

Sure  enough,  in  a  minute  or  two  the  line  slackened 
again,  when  it  was  rapidly  drawn  in  and  wound  around 
the  stake. 

"There  he  is!"  exclaimed  Euphemia.  "I  can  see 
him  just  under  the  water,  out  there." 

The  dark  form  of  the  shark,  appearing  at  first  like 
the  shadow  of  a  little  cloud,  could  be  seen  near  the 
surface,  about  fifteen  yards  away.  Then  his  back  fin 
rose,  his  tail  splashed  violently  for  an  instant,  and  he 
disappeared.  Again  the  line  was  loosened,  and  again 
the  slack  was  hauled  in  and  wound  up.  This  was 
repeated,  I  don't  know  how  many  times,  when  sud 
denly  the  shark  in  his  desperation  rushed  into  shallow 
water  and  grounded  himself.  He  would  have  floun 
dered  off  in  a  few  moments,  however,  had  we  not 
quickly  tightened  the  line.  Now  we  could  see  him 
plainly.  He  was  eight  or  nine  feet  long  and  strug 
gled  violently,  exciting  Euphemia  so  much  that  it 
was  only  by  clapping  her  hand  over  her  mouth  that 
she  prevented  herself  from  screaming.  I  would  have 
pulled  the  shark  farther  in  shore,  but  this  was  impos 
sible,  and  it  was  needless  to  expect  him  to  move  him 
self  into  shallower  water.  So,  quickly  rolling  up  my 
trousers,  I  seized  the  axe  and  waded  in  toward  the 
floundering  creature. 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  to  go  right  up  to  him,"  said 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  19 

Euphemia.  "So  long  as  he  don't  turn  over  on  his 
back  he  can't  bite  you." 

I  had  heard  this  bit  of  natural  history  before,  but, 
nevertheless,  I  went  no  nearer  to  the  shark  tlmn  was 
necessary  in  t)rder  to  whack  him  over  the  head  with 
the  axe.  This  I  did  several  times,  with  such  effect 
that  he  soon  became  a  dead  shark. 

When  I  came  out  triumphant,  Euphemia  seized  me 
in  her  arms  and  kissed  me. 

"  This  is  perfectly  splendid  ! "  she  said.  "  Who  can 
show  as  big  a  fish  as  this  one  ?  None  of  the  others 
can  ever  crow  over  you  again." 

"  Until  one  of  them  catches  a  bigger  shark,"  I  said. 

"  Which  none  of  them  ever  will,"  said  Euphemia, 
decidedly.  "  It  isn't  in  them." 

The  boatman  was  now  seen  approaching  in  his  boat 
to  take  the  party  back  to  camp,  and  the  "  crew,"  having 
returned  to  his  duty,  was  sent  off  in  a  state  of  absolute 
amazement  to  tell  the  others  to  come  and  look  at  our 
prize.  Our  achievement  certainly  created  a  sensation. 
Even  the  boatman  could  find  no  words  to  express  his 
astonishment.  He  waded  in  and  fastened  a  rope  to 
the  shark's  tail,  and  then  we  all  took  hold  and  hauled 
the  great  fish  ashore. 

"  What  is  the  good  of  it  now  you  have  got  it  ?  " 
asked  Quee. 

"  Glory  is  some  good  ! "  exclaimed  Euphemia. 

"And  I'm  going  to  have  you  a  belt  made  from  a 
strip  of  its  skin,"  I  said. 

This  seemed  to  Euphemia  a  capital  idea.  She  would 
be  delighted  to  have  such  a  trophy  of  our  deed,  and 


20  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

the  boatman  was  set  to  work  to  cut  a  suitable  strip 
from  the  fish.  And  this  belt,  having  been  properly 
tanned,  lined,  and  fitted  with  buckles,  is  now  one  of 
her  favorite  adornments,  and  cost,  I  am  bound  to  add, 
about  three  times  as  much  as  any  handsome  leathern 
belt  to  be  bought  in  the  stores. 

Every  day  the  Paying  Teller,  his  wife,  and  Quee 
carefully  set  down  in  their  note-books  the  weight  of 
fish  each  individual  had  caught,  with  all  necessary 
details  and  specifications  relating  thereunto ;  every 
day  we  wandered  on  the  beach,  or  explored  the  trop 
ical  recesses  of  the  palmetto  woods ;  every  evening 
the  boatman  rowed  over  to  the  light-house  to  have  a 
bit  of  gossip,  and  to  take  thither  the  fish  we  did  not 
need ;  every  day  the  sun  was  soft  and  warm,  and  the 
sky  was  blue;  and  every  morning,  going  ocean  ward, 
and  every  evening,  going  landward,  seven  pelicans 
flew  slowly  by  our  camp. 

My  greatest  desire  at  this  time  was  to  shoot  a 
pelican,  to  have  him  properly  prepared,  and  to  take 
him  to  E-udder  Grange,  where,  suitably  set  up,  with 
his  wings  spread  out,  full  seven  feet  from  tip  to  tip, 
he  would  be  a  grand  trophy  and  reminder  of  these 
Indian  Eiver  days.  This  was  the  reason  why,  nearly 
every  morning  and  every  evening,  I  took  a  shot  at 
these  seven  pelicans.  But  I  never  hit  one  of  them. 
We  had  only  a  shot-gun,  and  the  pelicans  flew  at  a 
precautionary  distance;  but,  being  such  big  birds, 
they  always  looked  to  me  much  nearer  than  they 
were.  Euphemia  earnestly  desired  that  I  should 
have  a  pelican,  and  although  she  always  wished  I 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  21 

should  hit  one  of  these,  she  was  always  glad  when 
I  did  not. 

"Think  how  mournful  it  would  be,"  she  said,  "if 
they  should  take  their  accustomed  flights,  morning 
and  evening,  with  one  of  their  number  missing." 

"Kepeating  Wordsworth's  verses,  I  suppose,"  re- 
*inarked  the  little  teacher. 

I  had  been  disappointed  in  the  number  of  pelicans 
we  had  seen.  I  knew  that  Florida  was  one  of  the 
homes  of  the  pelican,  and  I  had  not  expected  to  see 
these  birds  merely  in  small  detachments.  But  our 
boatman  assured  me  that  on  our  return  trip  he  would 
give  me  a  chance  of  seeing  and  shooting  as  many  pel 
icans  as  I  could  desire.  We  would  touch  at  Pelican 
Island,  which  was  inhabited  entirely  by  these  birds, 
and  whence  the  parties  of  seven  were  evidently  sent 
out. 

When  we  had  had  all  the  fishing  we  wanted,  we 
broke  up  our  camp,  and  started  northward.  We  had 
all  been  very  happy  and  contented  during  our  ten 
days7  sojourn  in  this  delightful  place ;  but  when  at 
last  our  departure  was  determined  upon,  the  Paying 
Teller  became  possessed  with  a  wild  desire  to  go, 
go,  go.  There  was  some  reason,  never  explained  nor 
fully  expressed,  why  no  day,  hour,  minute,  or  second 
should  be  lost  in  speeding  to  the  far  Northwest. 
The  boatman,  too,  impelled  by  what  impulse  I  know 
not,  seemed  equally  anxious  to  get  home.  As  for  the 
Paying  Teller's  "  group,"  it  always  did  exactly  as  he 
wished.  Therefore,  although  Euphemia  and  I  would 
have  been  glad  to  linger  here  and  there  upon  our 


22  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

homeward  way,  we  could  not  gainsay  the  desire  of 
the  majority  of  the  party,  and  consequently  we  sailed 
northward  as  fast  as  wind  and  sometimes  oars  would 
take  us. 

Only  one  cause  for  delay  seemed  tolerable  to  the 
Paying  Teller.  This  was  to  stop  at  every  post-office. 
We  had  received  but  one  mail  while  in  camp,  which, 
had  been  brought  in  a  sail-boat  from  an  office  twenty 
miles  away.  But  the  Paying  Teller  had  given  and 
written  the  most  intricate  and  complex  directions  for 
the  retention  or  forwarding  of  his  mail  to  every  post 
master  in  the  country  we  had  passed  through,  and 
these  directions,  as  we  afterward  found,  had  so  puz 
zled  and  unsettled  the  minds  of  these  postmasters  that 
for  several  weeks  his  letters  had  been  moving  like 
shuttlecocks  up  and  down  the  St.  John's  and  Indian 
rivers  —  never  stopping  anywhere,  never  being  deliv 
ered,  but  crossing  and  recrossing  each  other  as  if  they 
were  imbued  with  their  owner's  desire  to  go,  go,  go. 
Some  of  the  post-offices  where  we  stopped  were  lonely 
little  buildings  with  no  other  habitation  near.  These 
we  usually  found  shut  up,  being  opened  only  on  mail- 
days,  and  in  such  cases  nothing  could  be  done  but  to 
slip  a  protesting  postal  into  the  little  slit  in  the  wall 
apparently  intended  for  letters.  Whether  these  pos 
tals  were  eaten  by  rats  or  read  by  the  P.M.'s,  we 
never  discovered.  Wherever  an  office  was  found  open, 
we  left  behind  us  an  irate  postmaster  breathing  all 
sorts  of  contemplated  vengeance  upon  the  disturbers 
of  his  peace.  We  heard  of  letters  that  had  been  sent 
north  and  sent  south,  t>ut  there  never  were  any  at  the 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS.  23 

particular  place  where  we  happened  to  be,  and  I  sup 
pose  that  the  accumulated  mail  of  the  Paying  Teller 
may  for  several  years  drop  gradually  upon  him  through 
the  meshes  of  the  Dead-Letter  Office. 

There  were  a  great  many  points  of  interest  which 
we  had  passed  on  our  downward  trip,  the  boatman 
assuring  us  that,  with  the  wind  we  had,  and  which 
might  cease  at  any  moment,  the  great  object  was  to 
reach  Jupiter  as  soon  as  possible,  and  that  we  would 
stop  at  the  interesting  places  on  the  way  up.  But 
now  the  wind,  according  to  his  reasoning,  made  it 
necessary  that  we  should  again  push  forward  as  fast 
as  we  could;  and,  as  I  said  before,  the  irresistible 
attraction  of  the  Northwest  so  worked  upon  the  Pay 
ing  Teller  that  he  was  willing  to  pause  nowhere,  dur 
ing  the  daytime,  but  at  a  post-office.  At  one  place, 
however,  I  was  determined  to  land.  This  was  Pelican 
Island.  The  boatman,  paying  no  attention  to  his 
promise  to  stop  here  and  give  me  an  opportunity  to 
shoot  one  of  these  birds,  declared,  when  near  the 
place,  that  it  would  never  do,  with  such  a  wind,  to 
drop  anchor  for  a  trifle  like  a  pelican.  The  Paying 
Teller  and  Quee  also  strongly  objected  to  a  stop;  and, 
while  the  teacher  had  a  great  desire  to  investigate  the 
subject  of  ornithology,  especially  when  exemplified 
by  such  a  subject  as  a  pelican,  she  felt  herself  obliged 
to  be  loyal  to  her  "group,"  and  so  quietly  gave  her 
voice  to  go  on.  But  I,  supported  by  Euphemia,  re 
mained  so  firm  that  we  anchored  a  short  distance  from 
Pelican  Island. 

None  of  the  others  had  any  desire  to  go  ashore,  and 


L'4  EUPHEMIA  AMONG  THE  PELICANS. 

so  I,  with  the  gun  and  Euphemia,  took  the  boat  and 
rowed  to  the  island.  While  we  were  here  the  others 
determined  to  sail  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to 
look  for  a  little  post-office,  the  existence  of  which  the 
boatman  had  not  mentioned  until  it  had  been  deter 
mined  to  make  this  stoppage  here. 

As  we  approached  the  island  we  saw  hundreds  of 
pelicans,  some  flying  about,  some  sitting  on  trunks 
and  branches  of  dead  trees,  and  some  waddling  about 
on  the  shore. 

"  You  might  as  well  shoot  two  of  them,"  said  Eu 
phemia,  "and  then  we  will  select  the  better  one  to 
take  to  Rudder  Grange." 

The  island  was  very  boggy  and  muddy,  and,  before 
I  had  found  a  good  place  to  land,  and  had  taken  up 
the  gun  from  the  bow  of  the  boat,  every  pelican  in 
sight  took  wing  and  flew  away.  I  stood  up  and  fired 
both  barrels  at  the  retreating  flock.  They  swerved 
and  flew  oceanward,  but  not  one  of  them  fell.  I 
helped  Euphemia  on  shore,  and  then,  gun  in  hand, 
I  made  my  way  as  well  as  I  could  to  the  other  end 
of  the  island.  There  might  be  some  deaf  old  fellows 
left  who  had  not  made  up  their  minds  to  fly.  "fhe 
ground  was  very  muddy,  and  drift-wood  and  under 
brush  obstructed  my  way.  Still,  I  pressed  on,  and 
went  nearly  half  around  the  island,  finding,  however, 
not  a  single  pelican. 

Soon  I  heard  Euphemia's  voice,  calling  loud.  She 
seemed  to  be  about  the  centre  of  the  island,  and  I  ran 
toward  her. 

"  I've  got  one  ! "  I  heard  her  cry,  before  I  came  in 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS.  25 

sight  of  her.  She  was  sitting  at  the  root  of  a  crooked, 
dead  tree.  In  front  of  her  she  held,  one  hand  grasp 
ing  each  leg,  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  ungainly 
and  wingless  goose.  All  about  her  the  ground  was  soft 
and  boggy.  Her  clothes  were  muddy,  her  face  was 
red,  and  the  creature  she  held  was  struggling  violently. 

"  What  on  earth  have  you  got  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  ap 
proaching  as  near  as  I  could,  "  and  how  did  you  get 
out  there  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  come  any  closer  ! "  she  cried.  "  You'll 
sink  up  to  your  waist !  I  got  here  by  treading  on  the 
little  hummocks  and  holding  on  to  that  dead  branch ; 
but  don't  you  take  hold  of  it,  for  you'll  break  it  off, 
and  then  I  can't  get  back." 

"  But  what  is  that  thing  ?  "  I  repeated. 

"  It's  a  young  pelican,"  she  replied.  "  I  found  a  lot 
of  nests  on  the  ground  over  there,  and  this  was  in  one 
of  them.  I  chased  it  all  about,  until  it  flopped  out 
here  and  hid  itself  on  the  other  side  of  this  tree. 
Then  I  came  out  quietly  and  caught  it.  But  how  am 
I  going  to  get  it  to  you  ?  " 

This  seemed,  indeed,  a  problem.  Euphemia  de 
clared  that  she  needed  both  hands  to  work  her  way 
back  by  the  means  of  the  long,  horizontal  limb  which 
had  assisted  her  passage  to  the  place  where"  she  sat, 
and  she  also  needed  both  hands  to  hold  her  prize.  It 
was  likewise  plain  that  I  could  not  get  to  her.  In 
deed,  I  could  not  see  how  her  light  steps  had  taken 
her  over  the  soft  and  marshy  ground  that  lay  between 
us.  I  suggested  that  she  should  throw  the  pelican  to 
me.  This  she  declined  to  do. 


26  EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS. 

"  I  could  never  throw  it  so  far/'  she  said,  "  and  it 
would  surely  get  away.  I  don't  want  to  lose  this 
pelican,  for  I  believe  it  is  the  last  one  on  the  island. 
If  there  are  other  young  ones,  they  have  scuttled  off 
by  this  time,  and  I  should  dreadfully  hate  to  go  back 
to  the  yacht  without  any  pelican  at  all." 

"  I  don't  call  that  much  of  one,"  I  said. 

"  It's  a  real  pelican  for  all  that,"  she  replied,  "  and 
about  as  curious  a  bird  as  I  ever  saw.  Its  wings 
won't  stretch  out  seven  feet,  to  be  sure." 

"About  seven  inches,"  I  suggested. 

"But  it  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  carry  a  young  one 
like  this,"  she  persisted,  "  and  I  expect  a  baby  pelican 
is  a  much  more  uncommon  sight  in  the  North  than  a 
grown  one." 

"No  doubt  of  it,"  I  said.  "We  must  keep  him  now 
you've  got  him.  Can't  you  kill  him  ?  " 

"I've  no  way  of  killing  him,"  returned  Eupheinia. 
"  I  wonder  if  you  could  shoot  him  if  I  were  to  hold 
him  out." 

This,  with  a  shot-gun,  I  positively  declined  to  do. 
Even  if  I  had  had  a  rifle,  I  suggested  that  she  might 
swerve.  For  a  few  moments  we  remained  nonplussed. 
I  could  not  get  to  Euphemia  at  all,  and  she  could  not 
get  to  me  unless  she  released  her  bird,  and  this  she 
was  determined  not  to  do. 

"Euphemia,"  I  said,  presently,  "the  ground  seems 
hard  a  little  way  in  front  of  you.  If  you  step  over 
there,  I  will  go  out  on  this  strip,  which  seems  pretty 
solid.  Then  I'll  be  near  enough  to  you  for  you  to 
swing  the  bird  to  me,  and  I'll  catch  hold  of  him." 


EUPHEM1A  AMONG   THE  PELICANS.  27 

Euphemia  arose  and  did  as  I  told  her,  and  we  soon 
found  ourselves  about  six  feet  apart.  She  took  the 
bird  by  one  leg  and  swung  it  toward  me.  With  out 
stretched  arm  I  caught  it  by  the  other  foot,  but  as  I 
did  so  I  noticed  that  Euphemia  was  growing  shorter, 
and  also  felt  myself  sinking  in  the  bog.  Instantly  I 
entreated  Euphemia  to  stand  perfectly  still,  for,  if  we 
struggled  or  moved,  there  was  no  knowing  into  what 
more  dreadful  depths  we  might  get.  Euphemia  obeyed 
me,  and  stood  quite  still,  but  I  could  feel  that  she 
clutched  the  pelican  with  desperate  vigor. 

"How  much  farther  down  do  you  think  we  shall 
sink  ?  "  she  asked,  her  voice  trembling  a  little. 

"Not  much  farther,"  I  said.  "I  am  sure  there  is 
firm  ground  beneath  us,  but  it  will  not  do  to  move. 
If  we  should  fall  down,  we  might  not  be  able  to  get 
up  again." 

"'How  glad  I  am,"  she  said,  "that  we  are  not 
entirely  separated,  even  if  it  is  only  a  baby  pelican 
that  joins  us !" 

"  Indeed,  I  am  glad !  "  I  said,  giving  the  warm  press 
ure  to  the  pelican's  leg  that  I  would  have  given  to 
Euphemia's  hand,  if  I  could  have  reached  her.  Eu 
phemia  looked  up  at  me  so  confidently  that  I  could 
but  believe  that  in  some  magnetic  way  that  pressure 
had  been  transmitted  through  the  bird. 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  come  back  ? "  she  said, 
directly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  replied,  "  there's  no  manner  of  doubt 
of  that." 

"  They'll  be  dreadfully  cross,"  she  said. 


28  EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  I  replied.  "But  it  makes 
very  little  difference  to  me  whether  they  are  or  not.7' 

"It  ought  to  make  a  difference  to  you,"  said  Eu- 
phemia.  "  They  might  injure  us  very  much." 

"If  they  tried  anything  of  the  kind,"  I  replied, 
"  they'd  find  it  worse  for  them  than  for  us." 

"  That  is  boasting,"  said  Euphemia,  a  little  re 
proachfully,  "and  it  does  not  sound  like  you." 

I  made  no  answer  to  this,  and  then  she  asked :  — 

"What  do  you  think  they  will  do  when  they 
come  ?  " 

"  I  think  they  will  put  a  plank  out  here  and  pull  us 
out." 

Euphemia  looked  at  me  an  instant,  and  then  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  it's  dreadful !  You 
know  they  couldn't  do  it.  Your  mind  is  giving  way ! " 

She  sobbed,  and  I  could  feel  the  tremor  run  through 
the  pelican. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  cried,  anxiously.  "  My 
mind  giving  way  ?  " 

"Yes  —  yes,"  she  sobbed.  "If  you  were  in  your 
right  senses — you'd  never  think — that  pelicans  could 
bring  a  plank." 

I  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"  Pelicans ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  Did  you  think  I  meant 
the  pelicans  were  coming  back  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  said.  "  That's  what  I  was  asking 
you  about." 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  pelicans  at  all,"  I  answered. 
"  I  was  talking  of  the  people  in  the  yacht." 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS.  29 

Euphemia  looked  at  me,  and  then  the  little  pelican 
between  us  began  to  shake  violently  as  we  laughed. 

"  I  know  people  sometimes  do  lose  their  minds  when 
they  get  into  great  danger,"  she  said,  apologetically. 

"  Hello  ! "  came  a  voice  from  the  water.  "  What 
are  you  laughing  about  ?  " 

"  Come  and  see/'  I  shouted  back,  "  and  perhaps  you 
will  laugh,  too." 

The  three  men  came ;  they  had  to  wade  ashore ; 
and  when  they  came  they  laughed.  They  brought  a 
plank,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  trouble  they  drew  us 
out,  but  Euphemia  would  not  let  go  of  her  leg  of  the 
little  pelican  until  she  was  sure  I  had  a  tight  hold  of 
mine. 

Day  after  day  we  now  sailed  northward,  until  we 
reached  the  little  town  at  which  we  had  embarked. 
Here  we  discarded  our  blue  flannels  and  three  half- 
grown  beards,  and  slowly  made  our  way  through 
woods  and  lakes  and  tortuous  streams  to  the  upper 
waters  of  the  St.  John's.  In  this  region  the  popula 
tion  of  the  river  shores  seemed  to  consist  entirely  of 
alligators,  in  which  monsters  Euphemia  was  greatly 
interested.  But  she  seldom  got  a  near  view  of  one, 
for  the  sportsmen  on  our  little  steamer  blazed  away  at 
every  alligator  as  soon  as  it  came  into  distant  sight ; 
and,  although  the  ugly  creatures  were  seldom  hit,  they 
made  haste  to  tumble  into  the  water  or  disappear 
among  the  tall  reeds.  Euphemia  was  very  much 
annoyed  at  this. 

"  I  shall  never  get  a  good  close  look  at  an  alligator 
at  all,"  she  said.  "  I  am  going  to  speak  to  the  captain." 


30  EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS. 

The  captain,  a  big,  good-natured  man,  listened  to 
her,  and  entirely  sympathized  with  her. 

"  Tom,"  said  he  to  the  pilot,  "  when  you  see  another 
big  'gator  on  shore,  don't  sing  out  to  nobody,  but  call 
me,  and  slow  up." 

It  was  not  long  before  chocolate-colored  Tom  called 
to  the  captain,  and  rang  the  bell  to  lessen  speed. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  captain,  walking  forward  to 
the  group  of  sportsmen,  "there's  a  big  'gator  ahead 
there,  but  don't  none  of  you  fire  at  him.  He's  copy 
righted." 

The  men  with  the  guns  did  not  understand  him,  but 
none  of  them  fired,  and  Euphemia  and  the  other 
ladies  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  an  enormous 
alligator  lying  on  the  bank,  within  a  dozen  yards  of 
the  boat.  The  great  creature  raised  its  head,  and 
looked  at  us  in  apparent  amazement  at  not  being  shot 
at.  Then,  probably  considering  that  we  did  not  know 
the  customs  of  the  river,  or  were  out  of  ammunition, 
he  slowly  slipped  away  among  the  reeds  with  an  air 
as  if,  like  Mr.  Turveydrop,  he  had  done  his  duty  in 
showing  himself,  and  if  we  did  not  take  advantage  of 
it,  it  was  no  affair  of  his. 

"  If  we  only  had  a  fellow  like  that  for  a  trophy  ! " 
ejaculated  Euphemia. 

"  He'd  do  very  well  for  a  trophy,"  I  answered,  "  but 
if,  in  order  to  get  him,  I  had  to  hold  him  by  one  leg 
while  you  held  him  by  another,  I  should  prefer  a  baby 
pelican." 

Our  trip  down  the  St.  John's  met  with  no  obstacles 
except  those  occasioned  by  the  Paying  Teller's  return 


EUPHEMIA  AMONG   THE  PELICANS.  31 

tickets.  He  had  provided  himself  and  his  group  with 
all  sorts  of  return  tickets  from  the  various  points  he 
had  expected  to  visit  in  Florida.  These  were  good 
only  on  particular  steamboats,  and  could  be  used  only 
to  go  from  one  particular  point  to  another.  Fortu 
nately  he  had  lost  several  of  them,  but  there  were 
enough  left  to  give  us  a  good  deal  of  trouble.  We 
did  not  wish  to  break  up  the  party,  and  consequently 
we  embarked  and  disembarked  whenever  the  Paying 
Teller's  group  did  so ;  and  thus,  in  time,  we  all  reached 
that  widespread  and  sandy  city  which  serves  for  the 
gate  of  Florida. 

From  here,  the  Paying  Teller  and  his  group,  with 
complicated  tickets,  the  determinate  scope  and  pur 
pose  of  which  no  one  man  living  could  be  expected  to 
understand,  hurried  wildly  toward  the  far  Northwest ; 
while  we,  in  slower  fashion,  returned  to  Rudder 
Grange. 

There,  in  a  place  of  honor  over  the  dining-room 
door,  stands  the  baby  pelican,  its  little  flippers  wide 
outstretched. 

"How  often  I  think,"  Euphemia  sometimes  says, 
"  of  that  moment  of  peril,  when  the  only  actual  bond 
of  union  between  us  was  that  little  pelican  I " 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 


IT  was  mainly  due  to  Pomona  that  we  went  to 
Europe  at  all.  For  years  Euphemia  and  I  had 
been  anxious  to  visit  the  enchanted  lands  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  but  the  obstacles  had 
always  been  very  great,  and  the  matter  had  been  in 
definitely  postponed.  Pomona  and  Jonas  were  still 
living  with  us,  and  their  little  girl  was  about  two 
years  old.  Pomona  continued  to  read  a  great  deal, 
but  her  husband's  influence  had  diverted  her  mind 
toward  works  of  history  and  travel,  and  these  she 
devoured  with  eager  interest.  But  she  had  not  given 
up  her  old  fancy  for  romance.  Nearly  everything 
she  read  was  mingled  in  her  mind  with  Middle  Age 
legends  and  tales  of  strange  adventure.  Euphemia's 
frequent  reference  to  a  trip  to  Europe  had  fired  Po 
mona's  mind,  and  she  was  now  more  wildly  anxious 
for  the  journey  than  any  of  us.  She  believed  that  it 
would  entirely  free  Jonas  from  the  chills  and  fever 
that  still  seemed  to  permeate  his  being.  And  besides 
this,  what  unutterable  joy  to  tread  the  sounding  pave 
ments  of  those  old  castles  of  which  she  had  so  often 
read!  Pomona  further  perceived  that  my  mental  and 
32 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.         33 

physical  systems  required  the  rest  and  change  of 
scene  which  could  be  given  only  by  a  trip  to  Europe. 
When  this  impression  had  been  produced  upon  Eu- 
phemia's  mind,  the  matter,  to  all  intents  and  pur 
poses,  was  settled.  A  tenant,  who  I  suspect  was 
discovered  and  urged  forward  by  the  indefatigable 
Pomona,  made  an  application  for  a  year's  lease  of  our 
house  and  farm.  In  a  business  view  I  found  I  could 
make  the  journey  profitable,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
no  reason  why  we  should  not  go,  and  go  now. 

It  appeared  to  be  accepted  as, a  foregone  conclusion 
by  Euphemia  and  Pomona  that  the  latter,  with  her 
husband  and  child,  should  accompany  us ;  but  of  this 
I  could  not,  at  first,  see  the  propriety. 

"  We  shall  not  want  servants  on  a  trip  like  that,"  I 
said ;  "  and  although  I  like  Jonas  and  Pomona  very 
much,  they  are  not  exactly  the  people  I  should  prefer 
as  travelling  companions." 

"If  you  think  you  are  going  to  leave  Pomona 
behind,"  said  Euphemia,  "you  are  vastly  mistaken. 
Oceans  and  continents  are  free  to  her,  and  she  will 
follow  us  at  a  distance  if  we  don't  let  her  go  with  us. 
She  was  quite  content  not  to  go  with  us  to  Florida, 
but  she  is  just  one  tingle  from  head  to  foot  to  go  to 
Europe.  We  have  talked  the  whole  thing  over,  and  I 
know  that  she  will  be  of  the  greatest  possible  use  and 
comfort  to  me  in  ever  so  many  ways ;  and  Jonas  will 
be  needed  to  take  care  of  the  baby.  Jonas  has 
money,  and  they  will  pay  a  great  part  of  their  own 
expenses,  and  will  not  cost  us  much,  and  you  needn't 
be  afraid  that  Pomona  will  make  us  ashamed  of  our- 


34  THE  RUDDER   GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

selves,  if  we  happen  to  be  talking  to  the  Dean  of 
Westminster  or  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  by 
pushing  herself  into  the  conversation." 

"Indeed/'  said  I,  "if  we  ever  happen  to  be  in 
veigled  into  a  confab  with  those  dignitaries,  I  hope 
Pomona  will  come  to  the  front  and  take  my  place." 

The  only  person  not  entirely  satisfied  with  the  pro 
posed  journey  was  Jonas. 

"  I  don't  like  trapsin'  round/'  said  he,  "  from  place 
to  place,  and  never  did.  If  I  could  go  to  some  one 
spot  and  stay  there  with  the  child,  while  the  rest  of 
you  made  trips,  I'd  be  satisfied,  but  I  don't  like  keep- 
in'  on  the  steady  go." 

This  plan  was  duly  considered,  and  the  suitability 
of  certain  points  was  discussed.  London  was  not 
believed  sufficiently  accessible  for  frequent  return 
trips ;  Paris  could  scarcely  be  called  very  central ; 
Naples  would  not  be  suitable  at  all  times  of  the  year, 
and  Cairo  was  a  little  too  far  eastward.  A  number  of 
minor  places  were  suggested,  but  Jonas  announced 
that  he  had  thought  of  a  capital  location,  and  being 
eagerly  asked  to  name  it,  he  mentioned  Newark,  New 
Jersey. 

"  I'd  feel  at  home  there,"  he  said,  "  and  it's  about 
as  central  as  any  place,  when  you  come  to  look  on  the 
map  of  the  world." 

But  he  was  not  allowed  to  remain  in  his  beloved 
New  Jersey,  and  we  took  him  with  us  to  Europe. 

We  did  not,  like  the  rest  of  the  passengers  on  the 
steamer,  go  directly  from  Liverpool  to  London,  but 
stopped  for  a  couple  of  days  in  the  quaint  old  town  of 


THE  RUDDER   GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.          35 

Chester.  "  If  we  don't  see  it  now,"  said  Euphemia, 
"  we  never  shall  see  it.  When  we  once  start  back  we 
shall  be  raving  distracted  to  get  home,  and  I  wouldn't 
miss  Chester  for  anything." 

"  There  is  an  old  wall  there/'  said  the  enthusiastic 
Pomona  to  her  husband,  "  built  by  Julius  Caesar  before 
the  Eomans  became  Catholics,  that  you  kin  walk  on 
all  round  the  town ;  an'  a  tower  on  it  which  the  king  of 
England  stood  on  to  see  his  army  defeated,  though  of 
course  it  wasn't  put  up  for  that  purpose;  besides, 
more  old-timenesses  which  the  book  tells  of  than  w.e 
can  see  in  a  week." 

"I  hope,"  said  Jonas,  wearily  shifting  the  child 
from  one  arm  to  the  other,  "that  there'll  be  some 
good  place  there  to  sit  down." 

When  we  reached  Chester,  we  went  directly  to  the 
inn  called  "The  Gentle  Boar,"  which  was  selected  by 
Euphemia  entirely  on  account  of  its  name,  and  we 
found  it  truly  a  quaint  and  cosey  little  house.  Every 
thing  was  early  English  and  delightful.  The  coffee- 
rooms,  the  bar-maids,  the  funny  little  apartments,  the 
old  furniture,  and  "  a  general  air  of  the  Elizabethan 
era,"  as  Euphemia  remarked. 

"I  should  almost  call  it  Henryan,"  said  Pomona, 
gazing  about  her  in  rapt  wonderment. 

We  soon  set  out  on  our  expeditions  of  sight-seeing, 
but  we  did  not  keep  together.  Euphemia  and  I  made 
our  way  to  the  old  cathedral.  The  ancient  verger 
who  took  us  about  the  edifice  was  obliged  to  show  us 
everything,  Euphemia  being  especially  anxious  to  see 
the  stall  in  the  choir  which  had  belonged  to  Charles 


36          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

Kingsley,  and  was  much  disturbed  to  find  that  under 
the  seat  the  monks  of  the  fifteenth  century  had  carved 
the  subject  of  one  of  Baron  Munchausen's  most  im 
probable  tales. 

"Of  course/7  said  she,  "they  did  not  know  that 
Charles  Kingsley  was  to  have  this  stall,  or  they 
would  have  cut  something  more  appropriate." 

"  Those  old  monks  ?ad  a  good  deal  of  fun  in  them," 
said  the  verger,  "  hand  they  were  particular  fond  of 
showing  up  quarrels  between  men  and  their  wives, 
which  they  could  do,  you  see,  without  'urting  each 
other's  feelings.  These  queer  carvings  are  hunder 
the  seats,  which  turn  hup  in  this  way,  and  Fve  no 
doubt  they  looked  at  them  most  of  the  time  they 
were  kneeling  on  the  cold  floor  saying  their  long,  Latin 
prayers." 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  said  Euphemia.  "  It  must  have 
been  a  great  comfort  to  the  poor  fellows." 

"We  went  all  through  that  cathedral,"  exclaimed 
Pomona,  when  she  came  in  the  next  day.  "  The  old 
virgin  took  us  everywhere." 

"Verger,"  exclaimed  Euphemia. 

"  Well,  he  looked  so  like  a  woman  in  his  long  gown," 
said  Pomona,  "  I  don't  wonder  I  mixed  him.  We  put 
two  shillin's  in  his  little  box,  though  one  was  enough, 
as  I  told  Jonas,  and  then  he  took  us  round  and  pointed 
out  all  the  beautiful  carvin's  and  things  on  the  choir, 
the  transits,  and  the  nave,  but  when  Jonas  stopped 
before  the  carved  figger  of  the  devil  chawin'  up  a 
sinner,  and  asked  if  that  was  the  transit  of  a  knave, 
the  old  feller  didn't  know  what  he  meant.  An7  then 


THE  RUDDER   GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.          37 

we  wandered  alone  through  them  ruined  cloisters  and 
subterraneal  halls,  an'  old  tombstones  of  the  past,  till 
I  felt  I  don't  know  how.  There  was  a  girl  in  New 
Jersey  who  used  to  put  on  airs  because  her  family  had 
lived  in  one  place  for  a  hundred  years.  When  I  git 
back  I'll  laugh  that  girl  to  scorn." 

After  two  days  of  delight  in  this  quaint  old  town 
we  took  the  train  Londonward.  Without  consultation 
Jonas  bought  tickets  for  himself  and  wife,  while  I 
bought  Euphemia's  and  mine.  Consequently  our  ser 
vants  travelled  first-class,  while  we  went  in  a  second- 
class  carriage.  We  were  all  greatly  charmed  with 
the  beautiful  garden  country  through  which  we  passed. 
It  was  harvest  time,  and  Jonas  was  much  impressed 
by  the  large  crops  gathered  from  the  little  fields. 

"I  might  try  to  do  something  of  that  kind  when  I 
go  back,"  he  afterward  said,  "  but  I  expect  I'd  have  to 
dig  a  little  hole  for  each  grain  of  wheat,  and  hoe  it, . 
and  water  it,  and  tie  the  blade  to  a  stick -if  it  was 
weakly." 

"An'  a  nice  easy  time  you'd  have  of  it,"  said 
Pomona;  "for  you  might  plant  your  wheat  field  round 
a  stump,  and  set  there,  and  farm  all  summer,  without 
once  gettin'  up." 

"And  that  is  Windsor!"  exclaimed  Euphemia,  as 
we  passed  within  view  of  that  royal  castle.  '"And 
there  lives  the  Sovereign  of  our  Mother  Country  ! " 

I  was  trying  to  puzzle  out  in  what  relationship  to  the 
Sovereign  this  placed  us,  when  Euphemia  continued :  — 

"  I  am  bound  to  go  to  Windsor  Castle !  I  have  ex 
amined  into  every  style  of  housekeeping,  French  flats 


38          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

and  everything,  and  I  must  see  how  the  Queen  lives. 
I  expect  to  get  ever  so  many  ideas." 

"  All  right,"  said  I ;  "  and  we  will  visit  the  royal 
stables,  too,  for  I  intend  to  get  a  new  buggy  when  we 
get  back." 

We  determined  that  on  reaching  London  we  would 
go  directly  to  lodgings,  not  only  because  this  was  a 
more  economical  way  of  living,  but  because  it  was  the 
way  in  which  many  of  Euphemia's  favorite  heroes  and 
heroines  had  lived  in  London. 

"  I  want  to  keep  house,"  she  said,  "  in  the  same  way 
that  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb  did.  We  will  toast  a 
bit  of  muffin  or  a  potted  sprat,  and  we'll  have  a  ham 
per  of  cheese  and  a  tankard  of  ale,  just  like  those  old 
English  poets  and  writers." 

"I  think  you  are  wrong  about  the  hamper  of 
cheese,"  I  said.  "  It  couldn't  have  been  as  much  as 
that,  but  I  have  no  doubt  we'll  have  a  jolly  time." 

We  goir  into  a  four-wheeled  cab,  Jonas  on  the  seat 
with  the  driver,  and  the  luggage  on  top.  I  gave  the 
man  a  card  with  the  address  of  the  house  to  which  we 
had  been  recommended.  There  was  a  number,  the 
name  of  a  street,  the  name  of  a  place,  the  name  of  a 
square,  and  initials  denoting  the  quarter  of  the  town. 

"  It  will  confuse  the  poor  man  dreadfully,"  said 
Eupheinia.  "  It  would  have  been  a  great  deal  better 
just  to  have  said  where  the  house  was." 

The  man,  however,  drove  to  the  given  address  with 
out  mistake.  The  house  was  small,  but  as  there  were 
no  other  lodgers,  there  was  room  enough  for  us. 
Euphemia  was  much  pleased  with  the  establishment. 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.         39 

The  house  was  very  well  furnished,  and  she  had  ex 
pected  to  find  things  old  and  stuffy,  as  London  lodg 
ings  always  were  in  the  books  she  had  read. 

"But  if  the  landlady  will  only  steal  our  tea/'  she 
said,  "it  will  make  it  seem  more  like  the  real  thing." 

As  we  intended  to  stay  some  time  in  London,  where 
I  had  business  to  transact  for  the  firm  with  which  I 
was  engaged,  we  immediately  began  to  make  ourselves 
as  much  at  home  as  possible.  Pomona,  assisted  by 
Jonas,  undertook  at  once  the  work  of  the  house.  To 
this  the  landlady,  who  kept  a  small  servant,  somewhat 
objected,  as  it  had  been  her  custom  to  attend  to  the 
wants  of  her  lodgers. 

"  But  what's  the  good  of  Jonas  an'  me  bein'  here," 
said  Pomona  to  us,  "  if  we  don't  do  the  work  ?  Of 
course,  if  there  was  other  lodgers,  that  would  be  differ 
ent,  but  as  there's  only  our  own  family,  where's  the 
good  of  that  woman  and  her  girl  doin'  anything  ?  " 

And  so,  as  a  sort  of  excuse  for  her  being  in  Europe, 
she  began  to  get  the  table  ready  for  supper,  and  sent 
Jonas  out  to  see  if  there  was  any  place  where  he  could 
buy  provisions.  Euphemia  and  I  were  not  at  all  cer 
tain  that  the  good  woman  of  the  house  would  be  satis 
fied  with  this  state  of  things ;  but  still,  as  Jonas  and 
Pomona  were  really  our  servants,  it  seemed  quite 
proper  that  they  should  do  our  work.  And  so  we  did 
not  interfere,  although  Euphemia  found  it  quite  sad, 
she  said,  to  see  the  landlady  standing  idly  about,  gaz 
ing  solemnly  upon  Pomona  as  she  dashed  from  place 
to  place  engaged  with  her  household  duties. 

After  we  had  been  in  the  house  for  two  or  three 


40          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

days,  Pomona  came  into  our  sitting-room  one  evening 
and  made  a  short  speech. 

"I've  settled  matters  with  the  woman  here/'  she 
said,  "  an'  I  think  you'll  like  the  way  I've  done  it.  I 
couldn't  stand  her  follerin'  me  about,  an'  sayin'  'ow 
they  did  things  in  Hingland,  while  her  red-faced  girl 
was  a-spendin'  the  days  on  the  airy  steps,  a-lookin' 
through  the  railin's.  'Now,  Mrs.  Bowlin','  says  I, 
'  it'll  just  be  the  ruin  of  you  an'  the  death  of  me  if 
you  keep  on  makin'  a  picter  of  yourself  like  that 
lonely  Indian  a-sittin'  on  a  pinnacle  in  the  jographys, 
watchin'  the  inroads  of  civilization,  with  a  locomotive 
an'  a  cog-wheel  in  front,  an'  the  buffalo  an'  the  grisly 
a-disappearin  'in  the  distance.  Now  it'll  be  much  bet 
ter  for  all  of  us,'  saj^s  I, '  if  you'll  git  down  from  your 
peak,  and  try  to  make  up  your  mind  that  the  world 
has  got  to  move.  Aint  there  soire  place  where  you 
kin  go  an'  be  quiet  an'  comfortable,  an'  not  a-woundin' 
your  proud  spirit  a-watchin'  me  bake  hot  rolls  for 
breakfast  an'  sich  ? '  An'  then  she  says  she'd  begun 
to  think  pretty  much  that  way  herself,  an'  that  she 
had  a  sister  a-livin'  down  in  the  Sussex  Mews,  back 
of  Gresham  Terrace,  Camberwell  Square,  Hankberry 
Place,  N".  W.  by  N.,  an'  she  thought  she  might  as 
well  go  there  an'  stay  while  we  was  here.  An'  so  I 
says  that  was  just  the  thing,  and  the  sooner  done  the 
happier  she'd  be.  An'  I  went  up  stairs  and  helped 
her  pack  her  trunk,  which  is  a  tin  one,  which  she 
calls  her  box,  an'  I  got  her  a  cab,  an'  she's  gone." 

"  What ! "  I  cried ;  "  gone !  Has  she  given  up  her 
house  entirely  to  us  ?  " 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.         41 

"  For  the  time  bein'  she  has,"  answered  Pomona, 
"  for  she  saw  very  well  it  was  better  thus,  an'  she's 
comin'  every  week  to  git  her  money,  an'  to  see  when 
we're  goin'  to  give  notice.  An'  the  small  girl  has 
been  sent  back  to  the  country." 

It  was  impossible  for  Euphemia  and  myself  to 
countenance  this  outrageous  piece  of  eviction ;  but  in 
answer  to  our  exclamations  of  surprise  and  reproach, 
Pomona  merely  remarked  that  she  had  done  it  for  the 
woman's  own  good,  and,  as  she  was  perfectly  satisfied, 
she  didn't  suppose  there  was  any  harm  done ;  and,  at 
any  rate,  it  would  be  "  lots  nicer  "  for  us.  And  then 
she  asked  Euphemia  what  she  was  going  to  have  for 
breakfast  the  next  morning,  so  that  Jonas  could  go 
out  to  the  different  mongers  and  get  the  things. 

"Now,"  said  Euphemia,  when  Pomona  had  gone 
down  stairs,  "  I  really  feel  as  if  I  had  a  foothold  on 
British  soil.  It  doesn't  seem  as  if  7't  was  quite  right, 
but  it  is  perfectly  splendid." 

And  so  it  was.  From  that  moment  we  set  up  an 
English  Rudder  Grange  in  the  establishment  which 
Pomona  had  thus  rudely  wrenched,  as  it  were,  from 
the  claws  of  the  British  Lion.  We  endeavored  to 
live  as  far  as  possible  in  the  English  style,  because 
we  wanted  to  try  the  manners  and  customs  of  every 
country.  We  had  tea  for  breakfast  and  ale  for 
luncheon,  and  we  ate  shrimps,  prawns,  sprats,  save 
loys,  and  Yarmouth  bloaters.  We  "  took  in  the  Times," 
and,  to  a  certain  extent,  we  endeavored  to  cultivate 
the  broad  vowels.  Some  of  these  things  we  did  not 
like,  but  we  felt  bound  to  allow  them  a  fair  trial. 


42  THE  RUDDER   GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

We  did  not  give  ourselves  up  to  sight-seeing  as  we 
had  done  at  Chester,  because  now  there  was  plenty  of 
time  to  see  London  at  our  leisure.  In  the  mornings 
I  attended  to  my  business,  and  in  the  afternoons 
Euphemia  and  I  generally  went  out  to  visit  some  of 
the  lions  of  the  grand  old  city. 

Pomona  and  Jonas  also  went  out  whenever  a  time 
could  be  conveniently  arranged,  which  was  done  nearly 
every  day,  for  Euphemia  was  anxious  they  should  see 
everything.  They  almost  always  took  their  child,  and 
to  this  Euphemia  frequently  objected. 

"What's  the  good,"  she  said,  "of  carrying  a  baby 
not  two  years  old  to  the  Tower  of  London,  the  British 
Museum,  and  the  Chapel  of  Henry  VII.  ?  She  can't 
take  any  interest  in  the  smothered  princes,  or  the  As 
syrian  remnants.  If  I  am  at  home,  I  can  look  after 
her  as  well  as  not." 

"  But  you  see,  ma'am,"  said  Pomona,  "  we  don't  ex 
pect  the  baby'll  ever  come  over  here  ag'in,  an7  when 
she  gits  older,  I'll  tell  her  all  about  these  things,  an' 
it'll  expan'  her  intelleck  a  lot  more  when  she  feels 
she's  seed  'em  all  without  knowin'  it.  To  be  sure,  the 
monnyments  of  bygone  days  don't  always  agree  with 
her ;  for  Jone  set  her  down  on  the  tomb  of  Chaucer 
the  other  day,  an'  her  little  legs  got  as  cold  as  the 
tomb  itself,  an'  I  told  him  that  there  was  too  big  a 
difference  between  a  tomb  nigh  four  hundred  years 
old  an'  a  small  baby  which  don't  date  back  two  years, 
for  them  to  be  sot  together  that  way ;  an'  he  promised 
to  be  more  careful  after  that.  He  gouged  a  little 
piece  out  of  Chaucer's  tomb,  an'  as  we  went  home  we 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.          43 

bought  a  copy  of  the  old  gentleman's  poems,  so  as  we 
could  see  what  reason  there  was  for  keepin'  him  so 
long,  an'  at  night  I  read  Jone  two  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales.  'You  wouldn't  'a'  thought,'  says  Jone,  'jus' 
by  lookin'  at  that  little  piece  of  plaster,  that  the  old 
fellow  could  'a'  got  up  such  stories  as  them.' " 

"What  I  want  to  see  more'n  anything  else,"  said 
Pomona  to  us  one  day,  "  is  a  real  lord,  or  some  kind 
of  nobleman  of  high  degree.  I've  allers  loved  to  read 
about  'em  in  books,  and  I'd  rather  see  one  close  to, 
than  all  the  tombs  and  crypts  and  lofty  domes  you 
could  rake  together;  an'  I  don't  want  to  see  'em 
neither  in  the  streets,  nor  yet  in  a  House  of  Parlia 
ment,  which  aint  in  session ;  for  there,  I  don't  believe, 
dressin'  in  common  clothes  as  they  do,  that  I  could 
tell  'em  from  other  people.  What  I  want  is  to  pene 
trate  into  the  home  of  one  of  'em,  and  see  him  as  he 
really  is.  It's  only  there  that  his  noble  blood'll  come 
out." 

"Pomona,"  cried  Euphemia,  in  accents  of  alarm, 
"  don't  you  try  penetrating  into  any  nobleman's  home. 
You  will  get  yourself  into  trouble,  and  the  rest  of  us, 
too." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  a-goin'  to  git  you  into  any  trouble, 
ma'am,"  said  Pomona;  "'you  needn't  be  afeard  of 
that."  And  she  went  about  her  household  duties. 

A  few  days  after  this,  as  Euphemia  and  I  were  go 
ing  to  the  Tower  of  London  in  a  Hansom  cab  —  and 
it  was  one  of  Euphemia's  greatest  delights  to  be 
bowled  over  the  smooth  London  pavements  in  one  of 
these  vehicles,  with  the  driver  out  of  sight,  and  the 


44          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

horse  in  front  of  us  just  as  if  we  were  driving  our 
selves,  only  without  any  of  the  trouble,  and  on  every 
corner  one  of  the  names  of  the  streets  we  had  read 
about  in  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  and  with  the  Samp 
son  Brasses,  and  the  Pecksniffs,  and  the  Mrs.  Gamps, 
and  the  Guppys,  and  the  Sir  Leicester  Dedlocks,  and 
the  Becky  Sharps,  and  the  Pendennises,  all  walking 
about  just  as  natural  as  in  the  novels  — we  were  sur 
prised  to  see  Pomona  hurrying  along  the  sidewalk 
alone.  The  moment  our  eyes  fell  upon  her  a  feeling 
of  alarm  arose  within  us.  Where  was  she  going  with 
such  an  intent  purpose  in  her  face,  and  without  Jonas  ? 
She  was  walking  westward,  and  we  were  going  to  the 
east.  At  Eupheinia's  request  I  stopped  the  cab, 
jumped  out,  and  ran  after  her,  but  she  had  disap 
peared  in  the  crowd. 

"  She  is  up  to  mischief,"  said  Euphemia. 

But  it  was  of  no  use  to  worry  our  minds  on  the 
subject,  and  we  soon  forgot,  in  the  ancient  wonders 
of  the  Tower,  the  probable  eccentricities  of  our  mod 
ern  handmaid. 

We  returned;  night  came  on;  but  Pomona  was 
still  absent.  Jonas  did  not  know  where  she  was,  and 
was  very  much  troubled;  and  the  baby,  which  had 
been  so  skilfully  kept  in  the  background  by  its 
mother  that,  so  far,  it  had  never  annoyed  us  at  all, 
now  began  to  cry,  and  would  not  be  comforted.  Eu 
phemia,  with  the  assistance  of  Jonas,  prepared  the 
evening  meal,  and  when  we  had  nearly  eaten  it,  Po 
mona  came  home.  Euphemia  asked  no  questions, 
although  she  was  burning  with  curiosity  to  know 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.    45 

where  Pomona  had  been,  considering  that  it  was  that 
young  woman's  duty  to  inform  her  without  being 
asked. 

When  Pomona  came  in  to  wait  on  us,  she  acted  as 
if  she  expected  to  be  questioned,  and  was  perfectly 
willing  to  answer,  but  Euphemia  stood  upon  her  dig 
nity,  and  said  nothing.  At  last  Pomona  could  endure 
it  no  longer,  and  standing  with  a  tray  in  her  hand,  she 
exclaimed :  — '• 

"  Tin.  sorry  I  made  you  help  git  the  dinner,  ma'am, 
and  I  wouldn't  'a'  done  it  for  anything,  but  the  fact 
is  I've  been  to  see  a  lord,  an'  was  kep'  late." 

"  What ! "  cried  Euphemia,  springing  to  her  feet ; 
"  you  don't  mean  that ! " 

And  I  was  so  amazed  that  I  sat  and  looked  at  Po 
mona  without  saying  a  word. 

"Yes,"  cried  Pomona,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  ex 
citement,  "I've  seen  a  lord,  and  trod  his  floors,  and 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  You  know  I  was  bouii'  to 
do  it,  and  I  wanted  to  go  alone,  for  if  Jone  was  with 
me  he'd  be  sure  to  put  in  some  of  his  queer  sayin's 
an'  ten  to  one  hurt  the  man's  feelin's,  and  cut  off  the 
interview.  An'  as  Jone  said  this  afternoon  he  felt 
tired,  with  some  small  creeps  in  his  back,  an'  didn't 
care  to  go  out,  I  knew  my  time  had  come,  and  said  I'd 
go  for  a  walk.  Day  before  yesterday  I  went  up  to  a 
policeman  an'  I  asked  him  if  he  could  tell  me  if  a  lord, 
or  a  earl,  or  a  duke  lived  anywhere  near  here.  First 
he  took  me  for  crazy,  an'  then  he  began  to  ask  ques 
tions  which  he  thought  was  funny,  but  I  kep'  stiff  to 
the  mark,  an'  I  made  him  tell  me  where  a  lord  did  live, 


46          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

—  about  five  blocks  from  here.  So  I  fixed  things  all 
ready  an'  to-day  I  went  there." 

"  You  didn't  have  the  assurance  to  suppose  he'd  see 
you  ?  "  cried  Euphemia. 

"No,  indeed,  I  hadn't/'  said  Pomona,  "at  least 
under  common  circumstances.  You  may  be  sure  I 
racked  my  brains  enough  to  know  what  I  should  do  to 
meet  him  face  to  face.  It  wouldn't  do  to  go  in  the 
common  way,  such  as  ringin'  at  the  front  door  and 
askin'  for  him,  an'  then  offerin'  to  sell  him  furniter- 
polish  for  his  pianner-legs.  I  knowed  well  enough 
that  any  errand  like  that  would  only  bring  me  face  to 
face  with  his  bailiff,  or  his  master  of  hounds,  or  some 
thing  of  that  kind.  So,  at  last,  I  got  a  plan  of  my 
own,  an'  I  goes  up  the  steps  and  rings  the  bell,  an' 
when  the  flunkey,  with  more  of  an  air  of  gen'ral  up- 
liftedness  about  him  than  any  one  I'd  seen  yet,  excep' 
Nelson  on  top  of  his  pillar,  opened  the  door  an'  looked 
at  me,  I  asked  him,  — 

"as  Earl  Cobdenin?' 

"  At  this  the  man  opened  his  eyes,  an'  remarked :  — 

"'What  uv  it  if  he  is?' 

"  Then  I  answers,  firmly  :  — 

" '  If  he's  in,  I  want  yer  to  take  him  this  letter,  an' 
I'll  wait  here.' " 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  cried  Euphemia,  "that 
you  wrote  the  earl  a  letter  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  continued  Pomona,  "  and  at  first  the 
man  didn't  seem  inclined  to  take  it.  But  I  held  it  out 
so  steady  that  he  took  it  an'  put  it  on  a  little  tray, 
whether  nickel-plated  or  silver  I  couldn't  make  out, 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.          47 

and  carried  it  up  the  widest  and  splendidest  pair  o' 
stairs  that  I  ever  see  in  a  house  jus'  intended  to  be 
lived  in.  When  he  got  to  the  fust  landin'  he  met  a 
gentleman,  and  give  him  the  letter.  When  I  saw  this 
I  was  took  aback,  for  I  thought  it  was  his  lordship 
a-comin'  down,  an'  I  didn't  want  to  have  no  interview 
with  a  earl  at  his  front  door.  But  the  second  glance 
I  took  at  him  showed  me  that  it  wasn't  him.  He 
opened  it,  notwithstanding  an'  read  it  all  through  from 
beginnin'  to  end.  When  he  had  done  it  he  looked 
down  at  me,  and  then  he  went  back  up  stairs  a-follered 
by  the  flunk,  which  last  pretty  soon  came  down  ag'in 
an'  told  me  I  was  to  go  up.  I  don't  think  I  ever  felt 
so  much  like  a  wringed-out  dish-cloth  as  I  did  when  I 
went  up  them  palatial  stairs.  But  I  tried  to  think  of 
things  that  would  prop  me  up.  P'r'aps,  I  thought,  my 
ancient  ancestors  came  to  this  land  with  his'n ;  who 
knows?  An'  I  might  'a'  been  switched  off  on  some 
female  line,  an'  so  lost  the  name  an'  estates.  At  any 
rate,  be  brave !  With  such  thoughts  as  these  I  tried 
to  stiffen  my  legs,  figgeratively  speakin'.  We  went 
through  two  or  three  rooms  (I  hadn't  time  to  count 
'em)  an'  then  I  was  showed  into  the  lofty  presence  of 
the  earl.  He  was  standin'  by  the  fire-place,  an'  the 
minnit  my  eyes  lit  upon  him  I  knowed  it  was  him." 

"  Why,  how  was  that  ?  "  cried  Euphemia  and  myself 
almost  in  the  same  breath. 

"  I  knowed  him  by  his  wax  figger,"  continued  Po 
mona,  "which  Jone  and  I  see  at  Madame  Tussaud's 
wax-works.  They've  got  all  the  head  people  of  these 
days  there  now,  as  well  as  the  old  kings  and  the  pizen- 


48          THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

ers.  The  clothes  wasn't  exactly  the  same,  though 
very  good  on  each,  an?  there  was  more  of  an  air  of 
shortenin'  of  the  spine  in  the  wax  rigger  than  in  the 
other  one.  But  the  likeness  was  awful  strikin'. 

" i  Well,  my  good  woman/  says  he,  a-holdin'  my 
open  letter  in  his  hand,  '  so  you  want  to  see  a  lord,  do 
you?'" 

"  What  on  earth  did  you  write  to  him  ?  "  exclaimed 
Euphemia.  "You  mustn't  go  on  a  bit  further  until 
you  have  told  what  was  in  your  letter." 

"  Well,"  said  Pomona,  "  as  near  as  I  can  remember, 
it  was  like  this  :  'William,  Lord  Cobden,  Earl  of  Dor 
setshire  an'  Derry.  Dear  Sir.  Bein'  brought  up  under 
Republican  institutions,  in  the  land  of  the  free  — '  I  left 
out  '  the  home  of  the  brave '  because  there  wasn't  no 
use  crowin'  about  that  jus'  then  — i  I  haven't  had  no 
opportunity  of  meetin'  with  a  individual  of  lordly  blood. 
Ever  since  I  was  a  small  girl  takin'  books  from  the  cir- 
culatin'  libery,  an'  obliged  to  read  out  loud  with  divided 
sillerbles,  I've  drank  in  every  word  of  the  tales  of  lords 
and  other  nobles  of  high  degree,  that  the  little  shops  where 
I  generally  got  my  books,  an9  some  with  the  pages  out  at 
the  most  excitin'  parts,  contained.  An9  so  I  asks  you 
now,  Sir  Lord  — '  I  did  put  humbly,  but  I  scratched 
that  out,  bein'  an  American  woman  —  'to  do  me  the 
favor  of  a  short  audience.  Then,  when  I  reads  about 
noble  earls  an'  dukes  in  their  brilliant  lit  halls  an'  castles, 
or  mounted  on  their  champin'  chargers,  a-leadin'  their 
trusty  hordes  to  victory  amid  the  glittering  minarets  of 
fame,  I'll  know  what  they  looks  like.9  An'  then  I  signed 
my  name. 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.         49 

"'Yes,  sir/  says  I,  in  answer  to  his  earlship's  ques 
tion,"  said  Pomona,  taking  up  her  story,  " '  I  did  want 
to  see  one,  upon  my  word.' 

" '  An'  now  that  you  have  seen  him/  says  he,  '  what 
do  you  think  of  him  ? ' 

"Now,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  before  I  entered 
this  ducal  pile,  or  put  my  foot  on  one  ancestral  stone, 
that  I'd  be  square  and  honest  through  the  whole  busi 
ness,  and  not  try  no  counterfeit  presentiments  with 
the  earl.  So  I  says  to  him :  — 

"  'The  fust  thing  I  thinks  is,  that  you've  got  on  the 
nicest  suit  of  clothes  that  I've  ever  seed  yit,  not  bein' 
exactly  Sunday  clothes,  and  yit  fit  for  company,  an* 
if  money  can  buy  'em  —  an'  men's  clothes  is  cheap 
enough  here,  dear  only  knows  —  I'm  goin'  to  have  a 
suit  jus'  like  it  for  Jone,  my  husband.'  It  was  a  kind 
o'  brown  mixed  stuff,  with  a  little  spot  of  red  in  it 
here  an'  there,  an'  was  about  as  gay  for  plain  goods, 
an'  as  plain  for  gay  goods,  as  anythin'  could  be,  an' 
'twas  easy  enough  to  see  that  it  was  all  wool.  '  Of 
course/  says  I, '  Jone'll  have  his  coat  made  different  in 
front,  for  single-breasted,  an'  a  buttonin'  so  high  up  is 
a'most  too  stylish  for  him,  'specially  as  fashions  'ud 
change  afore  the  coat  was  wore  out.  But  I  needn't 
bother  your  earlship  about  that.' 

"  'An'  so/  says  he,  an'  I  imagine  I  see  an  air  of  sad 
ness  steal  over  his  features,  '  it's  my  clothes,  after  all, 
that  interest  you  ? ' 

"'Oh,  no/  says  I,  'I  mention  them  because  they 
come  up  fust.  There  is,  no  doubt,  qualities  of  mind 
and  body  — ' 


50  THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

" '  Well,  we  won't  go  into  that/  said  his  earlship, 
'an'  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question.  I  suppose  you 
represent  the  middle  class  in  your  country  ? ' 

"  '  I  don't  know  'zactly  where  society  splits  with  us/ 
says  I,  'but  I  guess  I'm  somewhere  nigh  the  crack.' 

" '  Now  don't  you  really  believe/  says  he,  '  that  you 
and  the  people  of  your  class  would  be  happier,  an' 
feel  safer,  politically  speakin',  if  they  had  among  'em 
a  aristocracy  to  which  they  could  look  up  to  in  times 
of  trouble,  as  their  nat'ral  born  gardeens  ?  I  ask  yer 
this  because  I  want  to  know  for  myself  what  are  the 
reel  sentiments  of  yer  people.' 

" '  Well,  sir/  says  I,  '  when  your  work  is  done,  an' 
your  kitchen  cleaned  up,  an'  your  lamp  lit,  a  lord  or  a 
duke  is  jus'  tip-top  to  read  about,  if  the  type  aint  too 
fine  an'  the  paper  mean  beside,  which  it  often  is  in  the 
ten-cent  books ;  but,  further  than  this,  I  must  say,  we 
aint  got  no  use  for  'em.'  At  that  he  kind  o'  steps 
back,  and  looks  as  if  he  was  goin'  to  say  somethin', 
but  I  puts  in  quick:  'But  you  mustn't  think,  my 
earl/  says  I,  'that  we  undervallers  you.  When  we 
remembers  the  field  of  Agincourt ;  and  Chevy  Chase ; 
an'  the  Tower  of  London,  with  the  block  on  which 
three  lords  was  beheaded,  with  the  very  cuts  in  it 
which  the  headsman  made  when  he  chopped  'em  ofl^ 
as  well  as  two  crooked  ones  a-showin'  his  bad  licks, 
which  little  did  he  think  history  would  preserve  for 
ever  ;  an'  the  old  Guildhall,  where  down  in  the  ancient 
crypt  is  a-hangin'  our  Declaration  of  Independence 
along  with  the  Eoman  pots  and  kittles  dug  up  in  Lon 
don  streets ;  we  can't  f orgit  that  if  it  hadn't  'a'  been  for 


THE  RUDDER  GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND.         51 

your  old  ancestral  lines  as  roots,  we'd  never  been  the 
flourishin'  tree  we  is.' 

" '  Well/  said  his  earlship,  when  I'd  got  through, 
an'  he  kind  o'  looked  as  if  he  didn't  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  not,  'if  you  represent  the  feelin's  of  your 
class  in  your  country,  I  reckon  they're  not  just  ready 
for  a  aristocracy  yit.' 

"  An'  with  that  he  give  nie  a  little  nod,  an?  walked 
off  into  another  room.  It  was  pretty  plain  from  this 
that  the  interview  was  brought  to  a  close,  an'  so  I 
come  away.  The  flunk  was  all  ready  to  show  me  out, 
an'  he  did  it  so  expeditious,  though  quite  polite,  that 
I  didn't  git  no  chance  to  take  a  good  look  at  the  fur- 
niter  and  carpets,  which  I'd  'a'  liked  to  have  done. 
An'  so  I've  talked  to  a  real  earl,  an'  if  not  in  his  an 
cestral  pile,  at  any  rate  in  the  gorgeousest  house  I  ever 
see.  An'  the  brilliantest  dream  of  my  youth  has  come 
true." 

When  she  had  finished  I  rose  and  looked  upon  her. 

"Pomona,"  said  I,  "we  may  yet  visit  many  foreign 
countries.  We  may  see  kings,  queens,  dukes,  counts, 
sheikhs,  beys,  sultans,  khedives,  pashas,  rajahs,  and  I 
don't  know  what  potentates  besides,  and  I  wish  to  say 
just  this  one  thing  to  you.  If  you  don't  want  to  get 
yourself  and  us  into  some  dreadful  scrape,  and  perhaps 
bring  our  journeys  to  a  sudden  close,  you  must  put  a 
curb  on  your  longing  for  communing  with  beings  of 
noble  blood." 

"  That's  true,  sir,"  said  Pomona,  thoughtfully,  "  an' 
I  made  a  pretty  close  shave  of  it  this  time,  for  when 
I  was  talkin'  to  the  earl,  I  was  just  on  the  p'int  of 


52          THE  RUDDER   GRANGERS  IN  ENGLAND. 

tellin'  him  that  I  had  such  a  high  opinion  of  his  kind 
o'  folks  that  I  once  named  a  big  black  dog  after  one 
of  'em,  but  I  jus'  remembered  in  time,  an'  slipped  on 
to  somethin'  else.  But  I  trembled  worse  than  a  pea 
nut  woman  with  a  hackman  goin'  round  the  corner  to 
ketch  a  train  an'  his  hubs  just  grazin'  the  legs  of  her 
stand.  An'  so  I  promise  you,  sir,  that  I'll  put  my 
heel  on  all  hankerin'  after  potentates." 

And  so  she  made  her  promise.  And,  knowing  Po 
mona,  I  felt  sure  that  she  would  keep  it  —  if  she 
could. 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTEB, 


IN  the  pretty  walk,  bordered  by  bright  flowers  and 
low,  overhanging  shrubbery,  which  lies  back  of 
the  Albert  Memorial,  in  Kensington  Gardens,  London, 
Jonas  sat  on  a  green  bench,  with  his  baby  on  his 
knee.  A  few  nurses  were  pushing  baby-carriages 
about  in  different  parts  of  the  walk,  and  there  were 
children  playing  not  far  away.  It  was  drawing 
toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  and  Jonas  was 
thinking  it  was  nearly  time  to  go  home,  when  Pomona 
came  running  to  him  from  the  gorgeous  monument, 
which  she  had  been  carefully  inspecting. 

"  Jone,"  she  cried,  "  do  you  know  I've  been  lookin' 
at  all  them  great  men  that's  standin'  round  the  bottom 
of  the  monnyment,  an'  though  there's  over  a  hundred 
of  'em,  I'm  sure,  I  can't  find  a  American  among  'em ! 
There's  poets,  an'  artists,  an'  leadin'  men,  scraped  up 
from  all  parts,  an'  not  one  of  our  illustrious  dead. 
What  d'ye  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  can't  believe  it,"  said  Jonas.  "  If  we  go  home 
with  a  tale  like  that  we'll  hear  the  recruiting-drum 
from  Newark  to  Texas,  and,  -ten  to  one,  I'll  be  drafted." 

"  You  needn't  be  makin'  fun,"  said  Pomona ;  "  you 

53 


54  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

come  an'  see  for  yourself.  Perhaps  you  kin'  find  jus' 
one  American,  an'  then  I'll  go  home  satisfied." 

"  All  right/'  said  Jonas. 

And,  putting  the  child  on  the  bench,  he  told  her 
he'd  be  back  in  a  minute,  and  hurried  after  Pomona, 
to  give  a  hasty  look  for  the  desired  American. 

Corinne,  the  offspring  of  Jonas  and  Pomona,  had 
some  peculiarities.  One  of  these  was  that  she  was 
accustomed  to  stay  where  she  was  put.  Ever  since 
she  had  been  old  enough  to  be  carried  about,  she  had 
been  carried  about  by  one  parent  or  the  other ;  and, 
as  it  was  frequently  necessary  to  set  her  down,  she 
had  learned  to  sit  and  wait  until  she  was  taken  up 
again.  She  was  now  nearly  two  years  old,  very  strong 
and  active,  and  of  an  intellect  which  had  already  be 
gun  to  tower.  She  could  walk  very  well,  but  Jonas 
took  such  delight  in  carrying  her  that  he  seldom 
appeared  to  recognize  her  ability  to  use  her  legs.  She 
could  also  talk,  but  how  much  her  parents  did  not 
know.  She  was  a  taciturn  child,  and  preferred  to 
keep  her  thoughts  to  herself,  and,  although  she  some 
times  astonished  us  all  by  imitating  remarks  she  had 
heard,  she  frequently  declined  to  repeat  the  simplest 
words  that  had  been  taught  her. 

Corinne  remained  on  the  bench  about  a  minute 
after  her  father  had  left  her,  and  then,  contrary  to 
her  usual  custom,  she  determined  to  leave  the  place 
where  she  had  been  put.  Turning  over  on  her 
stomach,  after  the  manner  of  babies,  she  lowered  her 
feet  to  the  ground.  Having  obtained  a  foothold,  she 
turned  herself  about  and  proceeded,  with  sturdy  steps, 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  55 

to  a  baby-carriage  near  by  which  had  attracted  her 
attention.  This  carriage,  which  was  unattended,  con 
tained  a  baby,  somewhat  smaller  and  younger  than 
Corinne,  who  sat  up  and  gazed  with  youthful  interest 
at  the  visitor  who  stood  by  the  side  of  her  vehicle. 
Corinne  examined,  with  a  critical  eye,  the  carriage 
and  its  occupant.  She  looked  at  the  soft  pillow  at 
the  baby's  back,  and  regarded  with  admiration  the 
afghan  crocheted  in  gay  colors  which  was  spread  over 
its  lap,  and  the  spacious  gig-top  which  shielded  it 
from  the  sun.  She  stooped  down  and  looked  at  the 
wheels,  and  stood  up  and  gazed  at  the  blue  eyes  and 
canary  hair  of  the  little  occupant.  Then,  in  quiet  but 
decided  tones,  Corinne  said:  — 

"Ditout!" 

The  other  baby  looked  at  her,  but  made  no  move 
ment  to  obey.  After  waiting  a  few  moments,  an  ex 
pression  of  stern  severity  spreading  itself  the  while 
over  her  countenance,  Corinne  reached  over  and  put 
her  arms  around  the  fair-haired  child.  Then,  with 
all  her  weight  and  strength,  she  threw  herself  back 
ward  and  downward.  The  other  baby,  being  light, 
was  thus  drawn  bodily  out  of  its  carriage,  and  Corinne 
sat  heavily  upon  the  ground,  her  new  acquaintance 
sprawling  in  her  lap.  Notwithstanding  that  she  bore 
the  brunt  of  the  fall  upon  the  gravel,  Corinne  uttered 
no  cry;  but,  disengaging  herself  from  her  encum 
brance,  she  rose  to  her  feet.  The  other  baby  imitated 
her,  and  Corinne,  taking  her  by  the  hand,  led  her  to 
the  bench  where  she  herself  had  been  left. 

"  Dit  up  ! "  said  Corinne. 


56  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

This,  however,  the  other  baby  was  unable  to  do  ; 
but  she  stood  quite  still,  evidently  greatly  interested 
in  the  proceedings.  Corinne  left  her  and  walked  to 
the  little  carriage,  into  which  she  proceeded  to  climb. 
After  some  extraordinary  exertions,  during  which  her 
fat  legs  were  frequently  thrust  through  the  spokes  of 
the  wheels  and  ruthlessly  drawn  out  again,  she  tum 
bled  in.  Arranging  herself  as  comfortably  as  she 
knew  how,  she  drew  the  gay  afghan  over  her,  leaned 
back  upon  the  soft  pillow,  gazed  up  at  the  sheltering 
gig-top,  and  resigned  herself  to  luxurious  bliss.  At 
this  supreme  moment,  the  nurse  who  had  had  Charge 
of  the  carriage  and  its  occupant  came  hurrying  around 
a  corner  of  the  path.  She  had  been  taking  leave  of 
some  of  her  nurse-maid  friends,  and  had  stayed  longer 
than  she  had  intended.  It  was  necessary  for  her  to 
take  a  suitable  leave  of  these  ladies,  for  that  night 
she  was  going  on  a  journey.  She  had  been  told  to 
take  the  baby  out  for  an  airing,  and  to  bring  it  back 
early.  Now,  to  her  surprise,  the  afternoon  had  nearly 
gone,  and  hurrying  to  the  little  carriage  she  seized  the 
handle  at  the  back  and  rapidly  pushed  it  home,  with 
out  stopping  to  look  beneath  the  overhanging  gig-top, 
or  at  the  green  bench,  with  which  her  somewhat 
worried  soul  had  no  concern.  If  anything  could  add 
to  Corinne's  ecstatic  delight,  it  was  this  charming 
motion.  Closing  her  eyes  contentedly,  she  dropped 
asleep. 

The  baby  with  canary  hair  looked  at  the  receding 
nurse  and  carriage  with  widening  eyes  and  reddening 
cheeks.  Then,  opening  her  mouth,  she  uttered  the 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  57 

cry  of  the  deserted ;  but  the  panic-stricken  nurse  did 
not  hear  her,  and,  if  she  had,  what  were  the  cries  of 
other  children  to  her  ?  Her  only  business  was  to  get 
home  quickly  with  her  young  charge. 

About  five  minutes  after  these  events,  Jonas  and 
Pomona  came  hurrying  along  the  path.  They,  too, 
had  stayed  away  much  longer  than  they  had  intended, 
and  had  suddenly  given  up  their  search  for  the  Ameri 
can,  whom  they  had  hoped  to  find  in  high  relief  upon 
the  base  of  the  Albert  Memorial.  Stepping  quickly 
to  the  child,  who  still  stood  sobbing  by  the  bench, 
Jonas  exclaimed,  "  You  poor  itty ! " 

And  then  he  stopped  suddenly.  Pomona  also  stood 
for  a  second,  and  then  she  made  a  dash  at  the  child, 
and  snatched  it  up.  Gazing  sharply  at  its  tear- 
smeared  countenance,  she  exclaimed,  "  What's  this  ?  " 

The  baby  did  not  seem  able  to  explain  what  it  was, 
and  only  answered  by  a  tearful  sob.  Jonas  did  not 
say  a  word;  but,  with  the  lithe  quickness  of  a  dog 
after  a  rat,  he  began  to  search  behind  and  under 
benches,  in  the  bushes,  on  the  grass,  here,  there,  and 
everywhere. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  evening,  Pomona  came  to 
us  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  the  canary-haired  baby 
in  her  arms,  and  told  us  that  Corinne  was  lost.  They 
had  searched  everywhere ;  they  had  gone  to  the  police ; 
telegrams  had  been  sent  to  every  station ;  they  had 
done  everything  that  could  be  done,  but  had  found  no 
trace  of  the  child. 

"If  I  hadn't  this/'  sobbed  Pomona,  holding  out  the 
child,  "I  believe  I'd  go  wild.  It  isn't  that  she  can 


58  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

take  the  place  of  my  dear  baby,  but  by  a-keepin'  hold 
of  her  I  believe  we'll  git  on  the  track  of  Corinne." 

We  were  both  much  affected  by  this  news,  and 
Euphemia  joined  Pomona  in  her  tears. 

"Jonas  is  scourin'  the  town  yet,"  said  Pomona. 
"He'll  never  give  up  till  he  drops.  But  I  felt  you 
ought  to  know,  and  I  couldn't  keep  this  little  thing 
in  the  night-air  no  longer.  It's  a  sweet  child,  and  its 
clothes  are  lovely.  If  it's  got  a  mother,  she's  bound 
to  want  to  see  it  before  long ;  an'  if  ever  I  ketch  sight 
of  her,  she  don't  git  away  from  me  till  I  have  my 
child." 

"  It  is  a  very  extraordinary  case,"  I  said.  "  Chil 
dren  are  often  stolen,  but  it  is  seldom  we  hear  of  one 
being  taken  and  another  left  in  its  place,  especially 
when  the  children  are  of  different  ages,  and  totally 
unlike." 

"That's  so,"  said  Pomona.  "At  first,  I  thought 
that  Corinne  had  been  changed  off  for  a  princess,  or 
something  like  that,  but  nobody  couldn't  make  any 
body  believe  that  my  big,  black-haired  baby  was  this 
white-an'-yaller  thing." 

"Can't  you  finrl  o»iy  mark  on  her  clothes,"  asked 
Euphemia,  ••  oy  which  you  could  discover  her  parent 
age  ?  If  there  are  no  initials,  perhaps  you  can  find  a 
coronet  or  a  coat  of  arms." 

"No,"  said  Pomona,  "there  aint  nothin'.  I've 
looked  careful.  But  there's  great  comfort  to  think 
that  Corinne's  well  stamped." 

"Stamped!"  we  exclaimed.  "What  do  you  mean 
by  that  ?  " 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  59 

"Why,  you  see,"  answered  Pomona,  "when  Jone 
an7  I  was  goin'  to  bring  our  baby  over  here  among  so 
many  million  people,  we  thought  there  might  be  dan 
ger  of  its  gittin'  lost  or  mislaid,  though  we  never 
really  believed  any  such  thing  would  happen,  or  we 
wouldn't  have  come.  An'  so  we  agreed  to  mark  her, 
for  I've  often  read  about  babies  bein'  stole  an'  kept 
two  or  three  years,  and  when  found  bein'  so  changed 
their  own  mothers  didn't  know  'em.  Jone  said  we'd 
better  tattoo  Corinne,  for  them  marks  would  always 
be  there,  but  I  wouldn't  agree  to  have  the  little  creat 
ure's  skin  stuck  with  needles,  not  even  after  Jone 
said  we  might  give  her  chloryf orm ;  so  we  agreed  to 
stamp  initials  on  her  with  Perkins's  Indelible  Dab. 
It  is  intended  to  mark  sheep,  but  it  don't  hurt,  and  it 
don't  never  come  off.  We  put  the  letters  on  the  back 
of  her  heels,  where  they  wouldn't  show,  for  she's 
never  to  go  barefoot,  an'  where  they'd  be  easy  got  at 
if  we  wanted  to  find  'em.  We  -put  E.  G.  on  one  heel 
for  the  name  of  the  place,  and  J.  P.  on  the  other  heel 
for  Jonas  an'  me.  If,  twenty  years  from  now,"  said 
Pomona,  her  tears  welling  out  afresh,  "  I  should  see  a 
young  woman  with  eyes  like  Corinne's,  an'  that  I  felt 
was  her,  a-walking  up  to  the  bridal  altar,  with  all  the 
white  flowers,  an'  the  floatin'  veils,  an'  the  crowds  in 
the  church,  an'  the  music  playin',  an'  the  minister  all 
ready,  I'd  jist  jerk  that  young  woman  into  the  vestry- 
room,  an'  have  off  her  shoes  an'  stockin's  in  no  time. 
An'  if  she  had  E.  G.  on  one  heel,  an'  J.  P.  on  the 
other,  that  bridegroom  could  go  home  alone." 

We   confidently   assured   Pomona  that   with   such 


60  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

means  of  identification,  and  the  united  action  of  our 
selves  and  the  police,  the  child  would  surely  be  found, 
and  we  accompanied  her  to  her  lodgings,  which  were 
now  in  a  house  not  far  from  our  own. 

When  the  nurse  reached  home  with  the  little  car 
riage  it  was  almost  dark,  and,  snatching  up  the  child, 
she  ran  to  the  nursery  without  meeting  any  one. 
The  child  felt  heavy,  but  she  was  in  such  a  hurry  she 
scarcely  noticed  that.  She  put  it  upon  the  bed,  and 
then  lighting  the  gas  she  unwrapped  the  afghan,  in 
which  the  little  creature  was  now  almost  entirely  en 
veloped.  When  she  saw  the  face,  and  the  black  hair, 
from  which  the  cap  had  fallen  off,  she  was  nearly 
frightened  to  death,  but,  fortunately  for  herself,  she 
did  not  scream.  She  was  rather  a  stupid  woman,  with 
but  few  ideas,  but  she  could  not  fail  to  see  that  some 
one  had  taken  her  charge,  and  put  this  child  in  its 
place.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  run  back  to  the  gar 
dens,  but  she  felt  certain  that  her  baby  had  been 
carried  off;  and,  besides,  she  could  not,  without  dis 
covery,  leave  the  child  here  or  take  it  with  her ;  and 
while  she  stood  in  dumb  horror,  her  mistress  sent  for 
her.  The  lady  was  just  going  out  to  dinner,  and  told 
the  nurse  that,  as  they  were  all  to  start  for  the  Conti 
nent  by  the  tidal  train,  which  left  at  ten  o'clock  that 
night,  she  must  be  ready  with  the  baby,  well  wrapped 
up  for  the  journey.  The  half -stupefied  woman  had  no 
words  nor  courage  with  which  to  declare,  at  this  mo 
ment,  the  true  state  of  the  case.  She  said  nothing, 
and  went  back  to  the  nursery  and  sat  there  in  dumb 
consternation,  and  without  sense  enough  to  make  a 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  61 

plan  of  any  kind.  The  strange  child  soon  awoke  and 
began  to  cry,  and  then  the  nurse  mechanically  fed  it, 
and  it  went  to  sleep  again.  When  the  summons  came 
to  her  to  prepare  for  the  journey,  in  cowardly  haste 
she  wrapped  the  baby,  so  carefully  covering  its  head 
that  she  scarcely  gave  it  a  chance  to  breathe ;  and  she 
and  the  lady's  waiting-maid  were  sent  in  a  cab  to  the 
Victoria  Station.  The  lady  was  travelling  with  a 
party  of  friends,  and  the  nurse  and  the  waiting-maid 
were  placed  in  the  adjoining  compartment  of  the  rail 
way-carriage.  On  the  six  hours'  channel  passage  from 
ISTewhaven  to  Dieppe  the  lady  was  extremely  sick,  and 
reached  France  in  such  a  condition  that  she  had  to  be 
almost  carried  on  shore.  It  had  been  her  intention  to 
stop  a  few  days  at  this  fashionable  watering-place, 
but  she  declared  that  she  must  go  straight  on  to  Paris, 
where  she  could  be  properly  attended  to,  and,  more 
over,  that  she  never  wanted  to  see  the  sea  again. 
When  she  had  been  placed  in  the  train  for  Paris  she 
sent  for  the  nurse,  and  feebly  asked  how  the  baby 
was,  and  if  it  had  been  seasick.  On  being  told  that  it 
was  all  right,  and  had  not  shown  a  sign  of  illness,  she 
expressed  her  gratification,  and  lay  back  among  her 
rugs. 

The  nurse  and  the  waiting-maid  travelled  together, 
as  before,  but  the  latter,  wearied  by  her  night's  attend 
ance  upon  her  mistress,  slept  all  the  way  from  Dieppe 
to  Paris.  When  they  reached  that  city,  they  went 
into  the  waiting-room  until  a  carriage  could  be  pro 
cured  for  them,  and  there  the  nurse,  placing  the  baby 
on  a  seat,  asked  her  companion  to  take  care  of  it  for  a 


62  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

few  minutes.  She  then  went  out  of  the  station  door, 
and  disappeared  into  Paris. 

In  this  way,  the  brunt  of  the  terrible  disclosure, 
which  came  very  soon,  was  thrown  upon  the  waiting- 
maid/  No  one,  however,  attached  any  blame  to  her : 
of  course,  the  absconding  nurse  had  carried  away  the 
fair-haired  child.  The  waiting-maid  had  been  sepa 
rated  from  her  during  the  passage  from  the  train  to 
the  station,  and  it  was  supposed  that  in  this  way  an 
exchange  of  babies  had  been  easily  made  by  her  and 
her  confederates.  When  the  mother  knew  of  her  loss, 
her  grief  was  so  violent  that  for  a  time  her  life  was 
in  danger.  All  Paris  was  searched  by  the  police  and 
her  friends,  but  no  traces  could  be  found  of  the  wicked 
nurse  and  the  fair-haired  child.  Money,  which,  of 
course,  was  considered  the  object  of  the  inhuman 
crime,  was  freely  offered,  but  to  no  avail.  No  one 
imagined  for  an  instant  that  the  exchange  was  made 
before  the  party  reached  Paris.  It  seemed  plain 
enough  that  the  crime  was  committed  \y\hen  the 
woman  fled. 

Corinne,  who  had  been  placed  in  the  charge  of  a 
servant  until  it  was  determined  what  to  do  with  her, 
was  not  at  all  satisfied  with  the  new  state  of  affairs, 
and  loudly  demanded  her  papa  and  mamma,  behaving 
for  a  time  in  a  very  turbulent  way.  In  a  few  days, 
the  lady  recovered  her  strength,  and  asked  to  see  this 
child.  The  initials  upon  Corinne' s  heels  had  been 
discovered,  and,  when  she  was  told  of  these,  the  lady 
examined  them  closely. 

"The  people  who  left  this  child,"  she  exclaimed, 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  63 

"  do  not  intend  to  lose  her !  They  know  where  she 
is,  and  they  will  keep  a  watch  upon  her,  and  when 
they  get  a  chance  they  will  take  her.  I,  too,  will 
keep  a  watch  upon  her,  and  when  they  come  for  her  I 
shall  see  them." 

Her  use  of  words  soon  showed  Corinne  to  be  of 
English  parentage,  and  it  was  generally  supposed  that 
she  had  been  stolen  from  some  travellers,  and  had 
been  used  at  the  station  as  a  means  of  giving  time  to 
the  nurse  to  get  away  with  the  other  child. 

In  accord  with  her  resolution,  the  grief-stricken 
lady  put  Corinne  in  the  charge  of  a  trusty  woman, 
and,  moreover,  scarcely  ever  allowed  her  to  be  out  of 
her  sight. 

It  was  suggested  that  advertisement  be  made  for 
the  parents  of  a  child  marked  with  E.  G.  and  J.  P. 
But  to  this  the  lady  decidedly  objected. 

"  If  her  parents  find  her,"  she  said,  "  they  will  take 
her  away;  and  I  want  to  keep  her  till  the  thieves 
come  for  her.  I  have  lost  my  child,  and  as  this  one 
is  the  only  clue  I  shall  ever  have  to  her,  I  intend  to 
keep  it.  When  I  have  found  my  child,  it  will  be  time 
enough  to  restore  this  one." 

Thus  selfish  is  maternal  love. 

Pomona  bore  up  better  under  the  loss  than  did 
Jonas.  Neither  of  them  gave  up  the  search  for  a 
day ;  but  Jonas,  haggard  and  worn,  wandered  aim 
lessly  about  the  city,  visiting  every  place  into  which 
he  imagined  a  child  might  have  wandered,  or  might 
have  been  taken,  searching  even  to  the  crypt  in  the 
Guildhall  and  the  Tower  of  London.  Pomona's  mind 


64  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

worked  quite  as  actively  as  her  husband's  body.  She 
took  great  care  of  "Little  Kensington/'  as  s]ie  called 
the  strange  child  from  the  place  where  she  had  been 
found;  and  therefore  could  not  go  about  as  Jonas  did. 
After  days  and  nights  of  ceaseless  supposition,  she 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Corinne  had  been 
stolen  by  opera  singers. 

"I  suppose  you  never  knew  it,"  she  said  to  us, 
"for  I  took  pains  not  to  let  it  disturb  you,  but  that 
child  has  notes  in.  her  voice  about  two  stories  higher 
than  any  operer  prymer  donner  that  I  ever  heard,  an7 
I've  heard  lots  of  'em,  for  I  used  to  go  into  the  top 
gallery  of  the  operer  as  often  as  into  the  theayter ; 
an'  if  any  operer  singer  ever  heard  them  high  notes 
of  Corinne's, —  an'  there  was  times  when  she'd  let 
'em  out  without  the  least  bit  of  a  notice,  —  it's  them 
that's  took  her." 

"But,  my  poor  Pomona,"  said  Euphemia,  "you 
don't  suppose  that  little  child  could  be  of  any  use  to 
an  opera  singer ;  at  least,  not  for  years  and  years." 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Pomona ;  "  she  was 
none  too  little.  Sopranners  is  like  mocking-birds ; 
they've  got  to  be  took  young." 

No  arguments  could  shake  Pomona's  belief  in  this 
theory.  And  she  daily  lamented  the  fact  that  there 
was  no  opera  in  London  at  that  time  that  she  might 
go  to  the  performances,  and  see  if  there  was  any  one 
on  the  stage  who  looked  mean  enough  to  steal  a  child. 

"  If  she  was  there,"  said  Pomona,  "  I'd  know  it. 
She'd  feel  the  scorn  of  a  mother's  eye  on  her,  an'  her 
guilty  heart  would  make  her  forget  her  part." 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  65 

Pomona  frequently  went  into  Kensington  Gardens, 
and  laid. traps  for  opera  singers  who  might  be  sojourn 
ing  in  London.  She  would  take  Little  Kensington  into 
the  gardens,  and,  placing  her  carefully  in  the  corner 
of  a  bench,  would  retire  to  a  short  distance  and  pre 
tend  to  be  absorbed  in  a  book,  while  her  sharp  eyes 
kept  up  the  watch  for  a  long-haired  tenor,  or  a  beauti 
fully  dressed  soprano,  who  should  suddenly  rush  out 
from  the  bushes  and  seize  the  child. 

"  I  wouldn't  make  no  fuss  if  they  was  to  come  out," 
she  said.  "  Little  Kensington  would  go  under  my 
arm,  not  theirn,  an'  I'd  walk  calmly  with  'em  to  their 
home.  Then  I'd  say :  '  Give  me  my  child,  an'  take 
yourn,  which,  though  she  probably  hasn't  got  no  voice, 
is  a  lot  too  good  for  you;  and  may  the  house  hurl 
stools  at  you  the  next  time  you  appear,  is  the  limit  of  v 
a  mother's  curse.' " 

But,  alas  for  Pomona,  no  opera  singers  ever  showed 
themselves. 

These  days  of  our  stay  in  London  were  not  pleasant. 
We  went  about  little,  and  enjoyed  nothing.  At  last 
Pomona  came  to  us,  her  face  pale  but  determined. 

"  It's  no  use,"  she  said,  "  for  us  to  keep  you  here  no 
longer,  when  I  know  you've  got  through  with  the 
place,  and  want  to  go  on,  an'  we'll  go,  too,  for  I  don't 
believe  my  child's  in  London.  She's  been  took  away, 
an'  we  might  as  well  look  for  her  in  one  place  as  an 
other.  The  perlice  tells  us  that  if  she's  found  here, 
they'll  know  it  fust,  an'  they'll  telegraph  to  us  wher 
ever  we  is ;  an'  if  it  wasn't  fur  nuthin'  else,  it  would  be 
a  mercy  to  git  Jone  out  of  this  place.  He  goes  about 


66  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

like  a  cat  after  her  drowned  kittens.  It's  a-bringin' 
out  them  chills  of  hisn,  an?  the  next  thing  it'll  kill 
him.  I  can't  make  him  believe  in  the  findin'  of  Co- 
rinne  as  firm  as  I  do,  but  I  know  as  long  as  Perkins's 
Indelible  Dab  holds  out  (an'  there's  no  rubbin'  nor 
washin'  it  off)  I'll  git  my  child." 

I  admitted,  but  not  with  Pomona's  hopefulness, 
that  the  child  might  be  found  as  easily  in  Paris  as  here. 

"And  we've  seen  everything  about  London,"  said 
Euphemia,  "  except  Windsor  Castle.  I  did  want,  and 
still  want,  to  see  just  how  the  Queen  keeps  house,  and 
perhaps  get  some  ideas  which  might  be  useful ;  but 
Her  Majesty  is  away  now,  and,  although  they  say 
that's  the  time  to  go  there,  it  is  not  the  time  for  me. 
You'll  not  find  me  going  about  inspecting  domestic 
arrangements  when  the  lady  of  the  house  is  away." 

So  we  packed  up  and  went  to  Paris,  taking  Little 
Kensington  along.  Notwithstanding  our  great  sym 
pathy  with  Corinne's  parents,  Euphemia  and  myself 
could  not  help  becoming  somewhat  resigned  to  the 
affliction  which  had  befallen  them,  and  we  found  our 
selves  obliged  to  enjoy  the  trip  very  much.  Euphemia 
became  greatly  excited  and  exhilarated  as  we  entered 
Paris.  For  weeks  I  knew  she  had  been  pining  for 
this  city.  As  she  stepped  from  the  train  she  seemed 
to  breathe  a  new  air,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she 
knew  by  the  prattle  and  cries  about  her  that  she  was 
really  in  France. 

We  were  obliged  to  wait  some  time  in  the  station 
before  we  could  claim  our  baggage,  and  while  we  were 
standing  ^there  Euphemia  drew  my  attention  to  a 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  67 

placard  on  the  wall.  "  Look  at  that !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Even  here,  on  our  very  entrance  to  the  city,  we  see 
signs  of  that  politeness  which  is  the  very  heart  of  the 
nation.  I  can't  read  the  whole  of  that  notice  from 
here,  but  those  words  in  large  letters  show  that  it 
refers  to  the  observance  of  the  ancient  etiquettes. 
Think  of  it !  Here  in  a  railroad  station  people  are 
expected  to  behave  to  each  other  with  the  old-time 
dignity  and  gallantry  of  our  forefathers.  I  tell  you 
it  thrills  my  very  soul  to  think  I  am  among  such  a 
people,  and  I  am  glad  they  can't  understand  what  I 
say,  so  that  I  may  speak  right  out." 

I  never  had  the  heart  to  throw  cold  water  on  Eu 
phemia7  s  noble  emotions,  and  so  I  did  not  tell  her  that 
the  notice  merely  requested  travellers  to  remove  from 
their  trunks  the  anciennes  etiquettes,  or  old  railway 
labels. 

We  were  not  rich  tourists,  and  we  all  took  lodgings 
in  a  small  hotel  to  which  we  had  been  recommended. 
It  was  in  the  Latin  Quarter,  near  the  river,  and  oppo 
site  the  vast  palace  of  the  Louvre,  into  whose  laby 
rinth  of  picture-galleries  Euphemia  and  I  were  eager 
to  plunge. 

But  first  we  all  went  to  the  office  of  the  American 
Consul,  and  consulted  him  in  regard  to  the  proper 
measures  to  be  taken  for  searching  for  the  little 
Corinne  in  Paris.  After  that,  for  some  days,  Jonas 
and  Pomona  spent  all  their  time,  and  Euphemia  and  I 
part  of  ours,  in  looking  for  the  child.  Euphemia's 
Parisian  exhilaration  continued  to  increase,  but  there 
were  some  things  that  disappointed  her. 


68  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

"I  thought,"  said  she,  "that  people  in  France  took 
their  morning  coffee  in  bed,  but  they  do  not  bring  it 
up  to  us." 

"  But,  my  dear,"  said  I,  "  I  am  sure  you  said  before 
we  came  here  that  you  considered  taking  coffee  in  bed 
as  an  abominable  habit,  and  that  nothing  could  ever 
make  you  like  it." 

"  I  know,"  said  she,  "  that  I  have  always  thought  it 
a  lazy  custom,  and  not  a  bit  nice,  and  I  think  so  yet. 
But  still,  when  we  are  in  a  strange  country,  I  expect 
to  live  as  other  people  do." 

It  was  quite  evident  that  Euphemia  had  been  look 
ing  forward  for  some  time  to  the  novel  experience  of 
taking  her  coffee  in  bed.  But  the  gray-haired  old 
gentleman  who  acted  as  our  chambermaid  never 
hinted  that  he  supposed  we  wanted  anything  of  the 
kind. 

Nothing,  however,  excited  Euphemia's  indignation 
so  much  as  the  practice  of  giving  a  pourboire  to  cab 
men  and  others.  "  It  is  simply  feeding  the  flames  of 
intemperance,"  she  said.  When  she  had  occasion  to 
take  a  cab  by  herself,  she  never  conformed  to  this 
reprehensible  custom.  When  she  paid  the  driver, 
she  would  add  something  to  the  regular  fare,  but  as 
she  gave  it  to  him  she  would  say  in  her  most  dis 
tinct  French:  "Pour  manger.  Comprenezvous?"  The 
cocker  would  generally  nod  his  head,  and  thank  her 
very  kindly,  which  he  had  good  reason  to  do,  for  she 
never  forgot  that  it  took  more  money  to  buy  food 
than  drink. 

In  spite  of  the  attractions  of  the  city,  our  sojourn 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  69 

in  Paris  was  not  satisfactory.  Apart  from  the  family 
trouble  which,  oppressed  us,  it  rained  nearly  all  the 
time.  We  were  told  that  in  order  to  see  Paris  at  its 
best  we  should  come  in  the  spring.  In  the  month  of 
May  it  was  charming.  Then  everybody  would  be  out- 
of-doors,  and  we  would  see  a  whole  city  enjoying  life. 
As  we  wished  to  enjoy  life  without  waiting  for  the 
spring,  we  determined  to  move  southward,  and  visit 
during  the  winter  those  parts  of  Europe  which  then 
lay  under  blue  skies  and  a  warm  sun.  It  was  impos 
sible,  at  present,  for  Pomona  and  Jonas  to  enjoy  life 
anywhere,  and  they  would  remain  in  Paris,  and  then, 
if  they  did  not  find  their  child  in  a  reasonable  time, 
they  would  join  us.  Neither  of  them  understood 
French,  but  this  did  not  trouble  them  in  the  slightest. 
Early  in  their  Paris  wanderings  they  had  inet  with  a 
boy  who  had  once  lived  in  New  York,  and  they  had 
taken  him  into  pay  as  an  interpreter.  He  charged 
them  a  franc  and  a  half  a  day,  and  I  am  sure  they  got 
their  money's  worth. 

Soon  after  we  had  made  up  our  minds  to  move 
toward  the  south,  I  came  home  from  a  visit  to  the 
bankers,  and  joyfully  told  Euphemia  that  I  had  met 
Baxter. 

"Baxter  ?  "  said  she,  inquiringly ;  "who  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  used  to  go  to  school  with  him,"  I  said ;  "  and  to 
think  that  I  should  meet  him  here  ! " 

"I  never  heard  you  mention  him  before,"  she  re 
marked. 

"No,"  I  answered;  "it  must  be  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  since  I  have  seen  him,  and  really  it  is  a  great 


70  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

pleasure  to  meet  him  here.  He  is  a  capital  fellow. 
He  was  very  glad  to  see  me." 

"  I  should  think,"  said  Euphemia,  "  if  you  like  each 
other  so  much  that  you  would  have  exchanged  visits 
in  America,  or,  at  least,  have  corresponded." 

"  Oh,  it  is  a  very  different  thing  at  home,"  I  said ; 
"  but  here  it  is  delightful  to  meet  an  old  school  friend 
like  Baxter.  He  is  coming  to  see  us  this  evening." 

That  evening  Baxter  came.  He  was  delighted  to 
meet  Euphemia,  and  inquired  with  much  solicitude 
about  our  plans  and  movements.  He  had  never  heard 
of  my  marriage,  and,  for  years,  had  not  known  whether 
I  was  dead  or  alive.  Now  he  took  the  keenest  interest 
in  me  and  mine.  We  were  a  little  sorry  to  find  that 
this  was  not  Baxter's  first  visit  to  Europe.  He  had 
been  here  several  times ;  and,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  had 
knocked  about  a  good  deal  over  the  Continent."  He 
was  dreadfully  familiar  with  everything,  and  talked 
about  some  places  we  were  longing  to  see  in  a  way 
that  considerably  dampened  our  enthusiasm.  In  fact, 
there  was  about  him  an  air  of  superiority  which, 
though  tempered  by  much  kindliness,  was  not  alto 
gether  agreeable.  He  highly  approved  our  idea  of 
leaving  Paris.  "  The  city  is  nothing  now,"  he  said. 
"  You  ought  to  see  it  in  May."  We  said  we  had  heard 
that,  and  then  spoke  of  Italy.  "  You  mustn't  go  there 
in  the  winter,"  he  said.  "You  don't  see  the  country 
at  its  best.  May  is  the  time  for  Italy.  Then  it  is 
neither  too  hot  nor  too  cold,  and  you  will  find  out 
what  an  Italian  sky  is."  We  said  that  we  hoped  to 
be  in  England  in  the  spring,  and  he  agreed  that  we 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  71 

were  right  there.  "  England  is  never  so  lovely  as  in 
May." 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Euphemia;  "it  seems  to  me, 
from  all  I  hear,  that  we  ought  to  take  about  twelve 
years  to  see  Europe.  We  should  leave  the  United 
States  every  April,  spend  May  in  some  one  place,  and 
go  back  in  June.  And  this  we  ought  to  do  each  year 
until  we  have  seen  all  the  places  in  May.  This  might 
do  very  well  for  any  one  who  had  plenty  of  money, 
and  who  liked  the  ocean,  but  I  don't  think  we  could 
stand  it.  As  for  me,"  she  continued,  "  I  would  like 
to  spend  these  months,  so  cold  and  disagreeable  here, 
in  the  sunny  lands  of  Southern  France.  I  want  to 
see  the  vineyards  and  the  olive  groves,  and  the  dark- 
eyed  maidens  singing  in  the  fields.  I  long  for  the 
soft  skies  of  Provence,  and  to  hear  the  musical  dialect 
in  which  Frederic  Mistral  wrote  his  '  Mir&o.'  " 

"  That  sounds  very  well,"  said  Baxter,  "  but  in  all 
those  southern  countries  you  must  be  prepared  in 
winter  for  the  rigors  of  the  climate.  The  sun  is  pretty 
warm  sometimes  at  this  season,  but  as  soon  as  you  get 
out  of  it  you  will  freeze  to  death  if  you  are  iiotfcareful. 
The  only  way  to  keep  warm  is  to  be  in  the  sun,  out 
of  the  wind,  and  that  won't  work  on  rainy  days,  and 
winter  is  the  rainy  season,  you  know.  In  the  houses 
it  is  as  cold  as  ice,  and  the  fires  don't  amount  to  any 
thing.  You  might  as  well  light  a  bundle  of  wooden 
tooth-picks  and  put  it  in  the  fire-place.  If  you  could 
sleep  all  the  time  you  might  be  comfortable,  for  they 
give  you  a  feather-bed  to  cover  yourself  with.  Out 
side  you  may  do  well  enough  if  you  keep  up  a  steady 


72  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

walking,  but  indoors  you  will  have  hard  work  to  keep 
warm.  You  must  wear  chest-protectors.  They  sell 
them  down  there  —  great  big  ones,  made  of  rabbit- 
skins  ;  and  a  nice  thing  for  a  man  to  have  to  wear  in 
the  house  is  a  pair  of  cloth  bags  lined  with  fur. 
They  would  keep  his  feet  and  legs  warm  when  he 
isn't  walking.  It  is  well,  too,  to  have  a  pair  of 
smaller  fur  bags  for  your  hands  when  you  are  in  the 
house.  You  can  have  a  little  hole  in  the  end  of  one 
of  them  through  which  you  can  stick  a  pen-holder, 
and  then  you  can  write  letters.  An  india-rubber  bag, 
filled  with  hot  water,  to  lower  down  your  back,  is  a 
great  comfort.  You  haven't  any  idea  how  cold  your 
spine  gets  in  those  warm  countries.  And,  if  I  were 
you,  Pd  avoid  a  place  where  you  see  them  carting 
coal  stoves  around.  Those  are  the  worst  spots.  And 
you  need  not  expect  to  get  one  of  the  stoves,  not 
while  they  can  sell  you  wood  at  two  sticks  for  a 
franc.  You  had  better  go  to  some  place  where  they 
are  not  accustomed  to  having  tourists.  In  the  regular 
resorts  they  are  afraid  to  make  any  show  of  keeping 
warm,  for  fear  people  will  think  they  are  in  the  habit 
of  having  cold  weather.  And  in  Italy  you've  got  to 
be  precious  careful,  or  you'll  be  taken  sick.  And 
another  thing.  I  suppose  you  brought  a  great  deal  of 
baggage  with  you.  You,  for  instance,"  said  our  friend, 
turning  to  me,  "packed  up,  I  suppose,  a  heavy  over 
coat  for  cold  weather,  and  a  lighter  one,  and  a  good 
winter  suit,  and  a  good  summer  one.  besides  another 
for  spring  and  fall,  and  an  old  suit  to  lie  about  in 
in  the  orange  groves,  and  a  dress  suit,  besides  such  con- 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  73 

venient  articles  as  old  boots  for  tramping  in,  pocket- 
lanterns,  and  so  forth." 

Strange  to  say,  I  had  all  these,  besides  many  other 
things  of  a  similar  kind,  and  I  could  not  help  admit 
ting  it. 

"Well,"  said  Baxter,  "you'd  better  get  rid  of  the 
most  of  that  as  soon  as  you  can,  for  if  you  travel  with 
that  sort  of  heavy  weight  in  the  Mediterranean  coun 
tries,  you  might  as  well  write  home  and  get  your 
house  mortgaged.  All  along  the  lines  of  travel,  in 
the  south  of  Europe,  you  find  the  hotels  piled  up  with 
American  baggage  left  there  by  travellers,  who'll  never 
send  for  it.  It  reminds  one  of  the  rows  of  ox  skele 
tons  that  used  to  mark  out  the  roads  to  California. 
But  T  guess  you'll  be  able  to  stick  it  out.  Good  bye. 
Let  me  hear  from  you." 

When  Baxter  left  us,  we  could  not  but  feel  a  little 
down-hearted,  and  Euphemia  turned  to  her  guide-book 
to  see  if  his  remarks  were  corroborated  there. 

"  Well,  there  is  one  comfort,"  she  exclaimed  at  last ; 
"this  book  says  that  in  Naples  epidemics  are  not  so 
deadly  as  they  are  in  some  other  places,  and  if  the 
traveller  observes  about  a  page  of  directions,  which 
are  given  here,  and.  consults  a  physician  the  moment 
he  feels  himself  out  of  order,  it  is  quite  possible  to 
ward  off  attacks  of  fever.  That  is  encouraging,  and 
I  think  we  might  as  well  go  on." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  and  here,  in  this  newspaper,  a  hotel 
in  Venice  advertises  that  its  situation  enables  it  to 
avoid  the  odors  of  the  Grand  Canal;  and  an  under 
taker  in  Nice  advertises  that  he  will  forward  the 


74  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

corpses  of  tourists  to  all  parts  of  Europe  and  America. 
I  think  there  is  a  chance  of  our  getting  back,  either 
dead  or  alive,  and  so  I  also  say,  let  us  go  on.'7 

But  before  we  left  Paris,  we  determined  to  go  to 
the  Grand  Opera,  which  we  had  not  yet  visited,  and 
Euphemia  proposed  that  we  should  take  Pomona  with 
us.  The  poor  girl  was  looking  wretched  and  woe 
begone,  and  needed  to  have  her  mind  diverted  from 
her  trouble.  Jonas,  at  the  best  of  times,  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  any  amusement  of  this  sort,  but  Pomona 
agreed  to  go.  We  had  no  idea  of  dressing  for  the 
boxes,  and  we  took  good  front  seats  in  the  upper 
circle,  where  we  could  see  the  whole  interior  of  the 
splendid  house.  As  soon  as  the  performance  com 
menced,  the  old  dramatic  fire  began  to  burn  in  Po 
mona.  Her  eyes  sparkled  as  they  had  not  done  for 
many  a  day,  and  she  really  looked  like  her  own  bright 
self.  The  opera  was  "  Le  Prophete,"  and,  as  none  of 
us  had  ever  seen  anything  produced  on  so  magnificent 
a  scale,  we  were  greatly  interested,  especially  in  the 
act  which  opens  with  that  wonderful  winter  scene  in 
the  forest,  with  hundreds  of  people  scattered  about 
under  the  great  trees,  with  horses  and  sleighs  and 
the  frozen  river  in  the  background  where  the  skaters 
came  gliding  on.  The  grouping  was  picturesque  and 
artistic ;  the  scale  of  the  scene  was  immense  ;  there 
was  a  vast  concourse  of  people  on  the  stage;  the 
dances  were  beautiful;  the  merry  skaters  graceful; 
the  music  was  inspiring. 

Suddenly,  above  the  voices  of  the  chorus,  above  the 
drums  and  bass  strings  of  the  orchestra,  above  the 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  75 

highest  notes  of  the  sopranos,  above  the  great  chande 
lier  itself,  came  two  notes  distinct  and  plain,  and  the 
words  to  which  they  were  set,  were :  — 

"  Ma-ma!" 

Like  a  shot  Pomona  was  on  her  feet.  With  arms 
outspread  and  her  whole  figure  dilating  until  she 
seemed  twice  as  large  as  usual,  I  thought  she  was 
about  to  spring  over  the  balcony  into  the  house  below. 
I  clutched  her,  and  Euphemia  and  I,  both  upon  our'feet, 
followed  her  gaze  and  saw  upon  the  stage  a  little  girl  in 
gay  array,  and  upturned  face.  It  was  the  lost  Corinne. 

Without  a  word,  Pomona  made  a  sudden  turn, 
sprang  up  the  steps  behind  her,  and  out  upon  the 
lobby,  Euphemia  and  I  close  behind  her.  Around 
and  down  the  steps  we  swept,  from  lobby  to  lobby, 
amazing  the  cloak-keepers  and  attendants,  but  stop 
ping  for  nothing;  down  the  grand  staircase  likQ  an 
avalanche,  almost  into  the  arms  of  the  astonished 
military  sentinels,  who,  startled  from  their  soldier 
like  propriety,  sprang,  muskets  in  hand,  toward  us. 
It  was  only  then  that  I  was  able  to  speak  to  Pomona, 
and  breathlessly  ask  her  where  she  was  going. 

"To  the  stage-door!"  she  cried,  making  a  motion 
to  hurl  to  the  ground  the  soldier  before  her.  But 
there  was  no  need  to  go  to  any  stage-door.  In  a 
moment  there  rushed  along  the  corridor  a  lady,  dressed 
apparently  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  bear 
ing  in  her  arms  a  child.  There  was  a  quick  swoop, 
and  in  another  moment  Pomona  had  the  child.  But 
clinging  to  its  garments,  the  lady  cried,  in  excellent 
English,  but  with  some  foreign  tinge  :  — 


76  POMONA'S  DAUGHTER. 

N 

"  Where  is  my  child  you  stole  ?  " 

"  Stole  your  grandmother ! "  briefly  ejaculated  Po 
mona.  And  then,  in  grand  forgetfulness  of  every 
thing  but  her  great  joy,  she  folded  her  arms  around 
her  child,  and  standing  like  a  statue  of  motherly  con 
tent,  she  seemed,  in  our  eyes,  to  rise  to  the  regions  of 
the  caryatides  and  the  ceiling  frescos.  Not  another 
word  she  spoke,  and  amid  the  confusion  of  questions 
and  exclamations,  and  the  wild  demands  of  the  lady, 
Euphemia  and  I  contrived  to  make  her  understand 
the  true  state  of  the  case,  and  that  her  child  was 
probably  at  our  lodgings.  Then  there  were  great  ex 
clamations  and  quick  commands ;  and,  directly,  four 
of  us  were  in  a  carriage  whirling  to  our  hotel.  All 
the  way,  Pomona  sat  silent  with  her  child  clasped 
tightly,  while  Euphemia  and  I  kept  up  an  earnest  but 
unsatisfactory  conversation  with  the  lady;  for,  as  to 
this  strange  affair,  we  could  tell  each  other  but  little. 
We  learned  from  the  lady,  who  was  an  assistant 
soprano  at  the  Grand  Opera,  how  Corinne  came  to  her 
in  Paris,  and  how  she  had  always  kept  her  with  her, 
even  dressing  her  up,  and  taking  her  on  the  stage  in 
that  great  act  where  as  many  men,  women,  and  chil 
dren  as  possible  were  brought  upon  the  scene.  When 
she  heard  the  cry  of  Corinne,  she  knew  the  child  had 
seen  its  mother,  and  then,  whether  the  opera  went  on 
or  not,  it  mattered  not  to  her. 

When  the  carriage  stopped,  the  three  women  sprang 
out  at  once,  and  how  they  all  got  through  the  door, 
I  cannot  tell.  There  was  such  a  tremendous  ring  at 
the  gate  of  the  court  that  the  old  concierge,  who 


POMONA'S  DAUGHTER.  77 

opened  it  by  pulling  a  wire  in  his  little  den  some 
where  in  the  rear,  must  have  been  dreadfully  startled 
in  his  sleep.  We  rushed  through  the  court  and  up 
the  stairs  past  our  apartments  to  Pomona's  room ;  and 
there  in  the  open  doorway  stood  Jonas,  his  coat  off, 
his  sandy  hair  in  wild  confusion,  his  face  radiant,  and 
in  his  hands  Little  Kensington  in  her  nightgown. 

"I  knew  by  the  row  on  the  stairs  you'd  brought 
her  home,"  he  exclaimed,  as  Little  Kensington  was 
snatched  from  him  and  Corinne  was  put  into  his  arms. 

We  left  Jonas  and  Pomona  to  their  wild  delight, 
and  I  accompanied  the  equally  happy  lady  to  the 
opera  house,  where  I  took  occasion  to  reclaim  the 
wraps  which  we  had  left  behind  in  our  sudden  flight. 

When  the  police  of  Paris  were  told  to  give  up  their 
search  for  an  absconding  nurse  accompanied  by  a  child, 
and  to  look  for  one  without  such  encumbrance,  they 
found  her.  From  this  woman  was  obtained  much  of 
the  story  I  have  told,  and  a  good  deal  more  was  drawn 
out,  little  by  little,  from  Corinne,  who  took  especial 
pleasure  in  telling,  in  brief  sentences,  how  she  had 
ousted  the  lazy  baby  from  the  carriage,  and  how  she 
had  scratched  her  own  legs  in  getting  in. 

"What  I'm  proud  of,"  said  Pomona,  "is  that  she 
did  it  all  herself.  It  wasn't  none  of  your  common 
stealin's  an'  findings ;  an'  it  aint  everywhere  you'll  see 
a  child  that  kin  git  itself  lost  back  of  Prince  Albert's 
monnyment,  an'  git  itself  found  at  the  operer  in  Paris, 
an'  attend  to  both  ends  of  the  case  itself.  An',  after 
all,  them  two  high  notes  of  hern  was  more  good  than 
Perkins's  Indelible  Dab." 


DERELICT. 

A   TALE    OF   THE   WAYWARD    SEA. 
I. 

ON  the  25th  of  May,  1887,  I  sat  alone  upon  the 
deck  of  the  Sparhawk,  a  three-masted  schooner, 
built,  according  to  a  description  in  the  cabin,  at  Sack- 
port,  Me.  I  was  not  only  alone  on  the  deck,  but  I 
was  alone  on  the  ship.  The  Sparhawk  was  a  "dere 
lict  " ;  that  is,  if  a  vessel  with  a  man  on  board  of  her 
can  be  said  to  be  totally  abandoned. 

I  had  now  been  on  board  the  schooner  for  eight 
days.  How  long  before  that  she  had  been  drifting 
about  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  currents  I  did 
not  then  know,  but  I  discovered  afterward  that  during 
a  cyclone  early  in  April  she  had  been  abandoned  by 
her  entire  crew,  and  had  since  been  reported  five 
times  to  the  hydrographic  office  of  the  Navy  Depart 
ment  in  Washington,  and  her  positions  and  probable 
courses  duly  marked  on  the  pilot  chart. 

She  had  now  become  one  of  that  little  fleet  aban 
doned 'at  sea  for  one  cause  or  another,  and  floating 
about  this  way  and  that,  as  the  wild  winds  blew  or 
the  ocean  currents  ran.  Voyaging  without  purpose, 
as  if  manned  by  the  spirits  of  ignorant  landsmen, 
sometimes  backward  and  forward  over  comparatively 
78 


DERELICT.  79 

small  ocean  spaces,  and  sometimes  drifting  for  many 
months  and  over  thousands  of  miles,  these  derelicts 
form,  at  night  and  in  fog,  one  of  the  dangers  most  to 
be  feared  by  those  who  sail  upon  the  sea. 

As  I  said  before,  I  came  on  board  the  abandoned 
Sparhawk  on  the  17th  of  May,  and  very  glad  indeed 
was  I  to  get  my  feet  again  on  solid  planking.  Three 
days  previously  the  small  steamer  Thespia,  from  Ha 
vana  to  New  York,  on  which  I  had  been  a  passenger, 
had  been  burned  at  sea,  and  all  on  board  had  left  her 
in  the  boats. 

What  became  of  the  other  boats  I  do  not  know,  but 
the  one  in  which  I  found  myself  in  company  with  five 
other  men,  all  Cuban  cigarmakers,  was  nearly  upset 
by  a  heavy  wave  during  the  second  night  we  were 
out,  and  we  were  all  thrown  into  the  sea.  As  none 
of  the  Cubans  could  swim,  they  were  all  lost,  but  I 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  boat,  which  had  righted 
itself,  though  half  full  of  water. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  boat  but  two  oars  which 
had  not  slipped  out  of  their  rowlocks,  a  leather  scoop 
which  had  been  tied  to  a  thwart,  and  the  aforemen 
tioned  water. 

Before  morning  I  had  nearly  baled  out  the  boat, 
and  fortunate  it  was  for  me  that  up  to  the  time  of 
the  upset  we  had  had  enough  to  eat  and  drink,  for 
otherwise  I  should  not  have  had  strength  for  that 
work  and  for  what  followed. 

Not  long  after  daybreak  I  sighted  the  Sparhawk, 
and  immediately  began  to  make  such  signals  as  I 
could.  The  vessel  appeared  to  be  but  a  few  miles 


80  DERELICT. 

distant,  and  I  could  not  determine  whether  she  was 
approaching  me  or  going  away  from  me.  I  could  see 
no  sign  that  my  signals  had  been  noticed,  and  began 
frantically  to  row  toward  her.  After  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  of  violent  exertion,  I  did  not  appear  to  be  much 
nearer  to  her ;  but,  observing  her  more  closely,  I  could 
see,  even  with  my  landsman's  eyes,  that  something 
was  the  matter  with  her.  Portions  of  her  mast  and 
rigging  were  gone,  and  one  large  sail  at  her  stern 
appeared  to  be  fluttering  in  the  wind. 

But  it  mattered  not  to  me  what  had  happened  to 
her.  She  was  a  ship  afloat,  and  I  must  reach  her. 
Tired,  hungry,  and  thirsty  I  rowed  and  rowed,  but  it 
was  not  until  long  after  noon  that  I  reached  her.  She 
must  have  been  much  farther  from  me  than  I  had 
supposed. 

With  a  great  deal  of  trouble  I  managed  to  clamber 
on  board,  and  found  the  ship  deserted.  I  had  sus 
pected  that  this  would  be  the  case,  for  as  I  had  drawn 
near  I  would  have  seen  some  sign  that  my  approach 
was  noticed  had  there  been  anybody  on  board  to  per 
ceive  it.  But  I  found  food  and  water,  and  when  I 
was  no  longer  hungry  or  thirsty  I  threw  myself  in  a 
berth,  and  slept  until  the  sun  was  high  the  next  day. 

I  had  now  been  on  the  derelict  vessel  for  eight  days. 
Why  she  had  been  deserted  and  left  to  her  fate  I  was 
not  seaman  enough  to  know.  It  is  true  that  her  masts 
and  rigging  were  in  a  doleful  condition,  but  she  did 
not  appear  to  be  leaking,  and  rode  well  upon  the  sea. 
There  was  plenty  of  food  and  water  on  board,  and 
comfortable  accommodations.  I  afterwards  learned 


DERELICT.  81 

that  during  the  terrible  cyclone  which  had  overtaken 
her,  she  had  been  on  her  beam  ends  for  an  hour  before 
the  crew  left  her  in  the  boats. 

For  the  first  day  or  two  of  my  sojourn  on  the  Spar- 
hawk  I  was  as  happy  as  a  man  could  be  under  the  cir 
cumstances.  I  thought  myself  to  be  perfectly  safe, 
and  believed  it  could  not  be  long  before  I  would  be 
picked  up.  Of  course  I  did  not  know  my  latitude  and 
longitude,  but  I  felt  sure  that  the  part  of  the  Atlantic 
in  which  I  was  must  be  frequently  crossed  by  steamers 
and  other  vessels. 

About  the  fourth  day  I  began  to  feel  uneasy.  I  had 
seen  but  three  sails,  and  these  had  taken  no  notice  of 
the  signal  which  I  had  hung  as  high  in  the  mizzen- 
mast  as  I  had  dared  to  climb.  It  was,  indeed,  no 
wonder  that  the  signal  had  attracted  no  attention 
among  the  fluttering  shreds  of  sails  about  it. 

I  believe  that  one  ship  must  have  approached  quite 
near  me.  I  had  been  below  some  time,  looking  over 
the  books  in  the  captain's  room,  and  when  I  came  on 
deck  I  saw  the  stern  of  the  ship,  perhaps  a  mile  or 
two  distant,  and  sailing  away.  Of  course  my  shouts 
and  wavings  were  of  no  avail.  She  had  probably  rec 
ognized  the  derelict  Sparhawk  and  had  made  a  note  of 
her  present  position,  in  order  to  report  to  the  hydro- 
graphic  office. 

The  weather  had  been  fair  for  the  most  part  of 
the  time,  the  sea  moderately  smooth,  and  when  the 
wind  was  strong,  the  great  sail  on  the  mizzen-mast, 
which  remained  hoisted  and  which  I  had  tightened 
up  a  little,  acted  after  the  manner  of  the  long  end 


82  DERELICT. 

of  a  weather-vane,  and  kept  the  ship's  head  to  the 
sea. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  I  was  not  in  a  bad  plight ; 
but  although  I  appreciated  this,  I  grew  more  and  more 
troubled  and  uneasy.  For  several  days  I  had  not  seen 
a  sail,  and  if  I  should  see  one  how  could  I  attract 
attention  ?  It  must  be  that  the  condition  of  the  ves 
sel  indicated  that  there  was  no  one  on  board.  Had  I 
known  that  the  Sparhawk  was  already  entered  upon 
the  list  of  derelicts,  I  should  have  been  hopeless 
indeed. 

At  first  I  hung  out  a  lantern  as  a  night  signal,  but 
on  the  second  night  it  was  broken  by  the  wind,  and  I 
could  find  only  one  other  in  good  condition.  The 
ship's  lights  must  have  been  blown  away  in  the  storm, 
together  with  her  boats  and  much  of  her  rigging.  I 
would  not  hang  out  the  only  lantern  left  me,  for  fear 
it  should  come  to  grief,  and  that  I  should  be  left  in 
the  dark  at  night  in  that  great  vessel.  Had  I  known 
that  I  was  on  a  vessel  which  had  been  regularly  rele 
gated  to  the  ranks  of  the  forsaken,  I  should  better 
have  appreciated  the  importance  of  allowing  passing 
vessels  to  see  that  there  was  a  light  on  board  the 
Sparhcvwk,  and,  therefore,  in  all  probability  a  life. 

As  day  after  day  had  passed,  I  had  become  more 
and  more  disheartened.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was 
in  a  part  of  the  great  ocean  avoided  by  vessels  of 
every  kind,  that  I  was  not  in  the  track  of  anything 
going  anywhere.  Every  day  there  seemed  to  be  less 
and  less  wind,  and  when  I  had  been  on  board  a  week, 
the  /Sparhawk  was  gently  rising  and  falling  on  a 


DERELICT.  83 

smooth,  sea  in  a  dead  calm.  Hour  after  hour  I  swept 
the  horizon  with  the  captain's  glass,  but  only  once  did 
I  see  anything  to  encourage  me.  This  was  what  ap 
peared  like  a  long  line  of  black  smoke  against  the  dis 
tant  sky,  which  might  have  been  left  by  a,  passing 
steamer;  but,  were  this  the  case,  I  never  saw  the 
steamer. 

Happily,  there  were  plenty  of  provisions  on  board 
of  a  plain  kind.  I  found  spirits  and  wine,  and  even 
medicines,  and  in  the  captain's  room  there  were  pipes, 
tobacco,  and  some  books. 

This  comparative  comfort  gave  me  a  new  and 
strange  kind  of  despair.  I  began  to  fear  that  I  might 
become  contented  to  live  out  my  life  alone  in  the 
midst  of  this  lonely  ocean.  In  that  case,  what  sort  of 
a  man  should  I  become  ? 

It  was  about  8.30  by  the  captain's  chronometer, 
when  I  came  on  deck  on  the  morning  of  the  25th  of 
May.  I  had  become  a  late  riser,  for  what  was  the 
good  of  rising  early  when  there  was  nothing  to  rise 
for  ?  I  had  scarcely  raised  my  eyes  above  the  rail  of 
the  ship  when,  to  my  utter  amazement,  I  perceived  a 
vessel  not  a  mile  away.  The  sight  was  so  unexpected, 
and  the  surprise  was  so  great,  that  my  heart  almost 
stopped  beating  as  I  stood  and  gazed  at  her. 

She  was  a  medium-sized  iron  steamer,  and  lay  upon 
the  sea  in  a  peculiar  fashion,  her  head  being  much 
lower  than  her  stern,  the  latter  elevated  so  much  that 
I  could  see  part  of  the  blades  of  her  motionless  pro 
peller.  She  presented  the  appearance  of  a  ship  which 
was  just  about  to  plunge,  bow  foremost,  into  the 


84  DERELICT. 

depths  of  the  ocean,  or  which  had  just  risen,  stern 
foremost,  from  those  depths. 

With  the  exception  of  her  position,  and  the  fact 
that  no  smoke-stack  was  visible,  she  seemed,  to  my 
eyes,  to  be  in  good  enough  trim.  She  had  probably 
been  in  collision  with  something,  and  her  forward 
compartments  had  filled.  Deserted  by  her  crew,  she 
had  become  a  derelict,  and,  drifting  about  in  her  deso 
lation,  had  fallen  in  with  another  derelict  as  desolate 
as  herself.  The  fact  that  I  was  on  board  the  Spar- 
hawk  did  not,  in  rny  eyes,  make  that  vessel  any  the 
less  forsaken  and  forlorn. 

The  coming  of  this  steamer  gave  me  no  comfort. 
Two  derelicts,  in  their  saddening  effects  upon  the 
spirits,  would  be  twice  as  bad  as  one,  and,  more  than 
that,  there  was  danger,  should  a  storm  arise,  that  they 
would  dash  into  each  other  and  both  go  to  the  bottom. 
Despairing  as  I  had  become,  I  did  not  want  to  go  to 
the  bottom. 

As  I  gazed  upon  the  steamer  I  could  see  that  she 
was  gradually  approaching  me.  There  was  a  little 
breeze  this  morning,  and  so  much  of  her  hull  stood 
out  of  the  water  that  it  caught  a  good  deal  of  the 
wind.  The  Sparhawlc,  on  the  contrary,  was  but  little 
affected  by  the  breeze,  for  apart  from  the  fact  that  the 
great  sail  kept  her  head  always  to  the  wind,  she  was 
heavily  laden  with  sugar  and  molasses  and  sat  deep  in 
the  water.  The  other  was  not  coming  directly  toward 
me,  but  would  probably  pass  at  a  considerable  dis 
tance.  I  did  not  at  all  desire  that  she  should  come 
near  the  Sparhawlc. 


DERELICT.  85 

Suddenly  my  heart  gave  a  jump.  I  could  distinctly 
see  on  the  stern  of  the  steamer  the  flutter  of  something 
white.  It  was  waved !  Somebody  must  be  waving  it ! 

Hitherto  I  had  not  thought  of  the  spyglass,  for  with 
my  naked  eyes  I  could  see  all  that  I  cared  to  see  of 
the  vessel,  but  now  I  dashed  below  to  get  it.  When 
I  brought  it  to  bear  upon  the  steamer  I  saw  plainly 
that  the  white  object  was  waved  by  some  one,  and 
that  some  one  was  a  woman.  I  could  see  above  the 
rail  the  upper  part  of  her  body,  her  uncovered  head, 
her  uplifted  arm  wildly  waving. 

Presently  the  waving  ceased,  and  then  the  thought 
suddenly  struck  me  that,  receiving  no  response,  she 
had  in  despair  given  up  signalling.  Cursing  my  stu 
pidity,  I  jerked  my  handkerchief  from  my  pocket,  and, 
climbing  a  little  way  into  the  rigging,  I  began  to  wave 
it  madly.  Almost  instantly  her  waving  recommenced. 
I  soon  stopped  signalling,  and  so  did  she.  No  more  of 
that  was  needed.  I  sprang  to  the  deck  and  took  up 
the  glass. 

The  woman  was  gone,  but  in  a  few  moments  she 
reappeared  armed  with  a  glass.  This  action  filled  me 
with  amazement.  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  woman 
was  alone  on  the  steamer,  and  that  there  was  no  one 
else  to  signal  and  to  look  out  ?  The  thing  was  incredi 
ble,  and  yet,  if  there  were  men  on  board,  why  did  they 
not  show  themselves  ?  And  why  did  not  one  of  them 
wave  the  signal  and  use  the  glass  ? 

The  steamer  was  steadily  but  very  slowly  nearing 
the  /Sparhawk,  when  the  woman  removed  the  glass 
and  stood  up  waist  high  above  the  rail  of  the  steamer. 


86  DERELICT. 

Now  I  could  see  her  much  better ;  I  fancied  I  could 
almost  discern  her  features.  She  was  not  old ;  she 
was  well  shaped;  her  bluish  gray  dress  fitted  her 
snugly.  Holding  the  rail  with  one  hand  she  stood  up 
very  erect,  which  must  have  been  somewhat  difficult, 
considering  the  inclination  of  the  deck.  For  a  moment 
I  fancied  I  had  seen  or  known  some  one  whose  habit  it 
was  to  stand  up  very  erect  as  this  woman  stood  upon 
the  steamer.  The  notion  was  banished  as  absurd. 

Wondering  what  I  should  do,  what  instant  action 
I  should  take,  I  laid  down  my  glass,  and  as  I  did  so 
the  woman  immediately  put  up  hers.  Her  object  was 
plain  enough ;  she  wanted  to  observe  me,  which  she 
could  not  well  do  when  a  view  of  my  face  was  ob 
structed  by  the  glass  and  my  outstretched  arms.  I 
was  sorry  that  I  had  not  sooner  given  her  that  oppor 
tunity,  and  for  some  moments  I  stood  and  faced  her, 
waving  my  hat  as  I  did  so. 

I  was  wild  with  excitement.  What  should  I  do  ? 
What  could  I  do  ?  There  were  no  boats  on  the  Spar- 
hawk,  and  what  had  become  of  the  one  in  which  I 
reached  her  I  did  not  know.  Thinking  of  nothing 
but  getting  on  board  the  vessel,  I  had  forgotten  to 
make  the  boat  fast,  and  when  I  went  to  look  for  it  a 
day  or  two  afterward  it  was  gone.  On  the  steamer, 
however,  I  saw  a  boat  hanging  from  davits  near  the 
stern.  There  was  hope  in  that. 

But  there  might  be  no  need  for  a  boat.  Under  the 
influence  of  the  gentle  breeze,  the  steamer  was  steadily 
drawing  nearer  to  the  SparhaivJc.  Perhaps  they  might 
touch  each  other.  But  this  idea  was  soon  dispelled, 


DERELICT.  87 

for  I  could  see  that  the  wind  would  carry  the  steamer 
past  me,  although,  perhaps,  at  no  great  distance. 
Then  my  hopes  sprang  back  to  the  boat  hanging  from 
her  davits. 

But  before  these  hopes  could  take  shape  the  woman 
and  her  glass  died  out  of  sight  behind  the  rail  of  the 
steamer.  In  about  a  minute  she  reappeared,  stood  up 
erect,  and  applied  a  speaking-trumpet  to  her  mouth. 
It  was  possible  that  a  high,  shrill  voice  might  have 
been  heard  from  one  vessel  to  the  other,  but  it  was 
plain  enough  that  this  was  a  woman  who  took  no  use 
less  chances.  I,  too,  must  be  prepared  to  hail  as  well 
as  to  be  hailed.  Quickly  I  secured  a  speaking-trumpet 
from  the  captain's  room,  and  stood  up  at  my  post. 

Across  the  water  came  the  monosyllable,  "  Ho ! " 
and  back  I  shouted,  "  Hallo  !  " 

Then  came  these  words,  as  clear  and  distinct  as  any 
I  ever  heard  in  my  life  :  "  Are  you  Mr.  Kockwell  ?  " 

This  question  almost  took  away  my  senses.  Was 
this  reality  ?  or  had  a  spirit  risen  from  this  lonely 
ocean  to  summon  me  somewhere  ?  Was  this  the  way 
people  died  ?  Rockwell  ?  Yes,  my  name  was  Bock- 
well.  At  least  it  had  been.  I  was  sure  of  nothing 
now. 

Again  came  the  voice  across  the  sea.  "  Why  don't 
you  answer  ?  "  it  said. 

I  raised  my  trumpet  to  my  lips.  At  first  I  could 
make  no  sound,  but,  controlling  my  agitation  a  little, 
I  shouted:  "Yes!" 

Instantly  the  woman  disappeared,  and  for  ten  min 
utes  I  saw  her  no  more.  During  that  time  I  did  noth- 


88  DERELICT. 

ing  but  stand  and  look  at  the  steamer,  which  was 
moving  more  slowly  than  before,  for  the  reason  that 
the  wind  was  dying  away.  She  was  now,  however, 
nearly  opposite  me,  and  so  near  that  if  the  wind 
should  cease  entirely,  conversation  might  be  held 
without  the  aid  of  trumpets.  I  earnestly  hoped  this 
might  be  the  case,  for  I  had  now  recovered  the  pos 
session  of  my  senses,  and  greatly  desired  to  hear  the 
natural  voice  of  that  young  woman  on  the  steamer. 

As  soon  as  she  reappeared  I  made  a  trial  of  the 
power  of  my  voice.  Laying  down  the  trumpet  I 
shouted :  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

Back  came  the  answer,  clear,  high,  and  perfectly 
audible  :  "  I  am  Mary  Phillips." 

Mary  Phillips  !  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  remembered 
the  name.  I  was  certainly  familiar  with  the  erect 
attitude,  and  I  fancied  I  recognized  the  features  of 
the  speaker.  But  this  was  all ;  I  could  not  place  her. 

Before  I  could  say  anything  she  hailed  again: 
"Don't  you  remember  me?"  she  cried,  "I  lived  in 
Forty-second  Street." 

The  middle  of  a  wild  and  desolate  ocean  and  a  voice 
from  Forty-second  Street !  What  manner  of  conjec 
ture  was  this  ?  I  clasped  my  head  in  my  hands  and 
tried  to  think.  Suddenly  a  memory  came  to  me :  a 
wild,  surging,  raging  memory. 

"With  what  person  did  you  live  in  Forty-second 
Street  ?  "  I  yelled  across  the  water. 

"Miss  Bertha  Nugent,"  she  replied. 

A  fire  seemed  to  blaze  within  me.  Standing  on  tip 
toe  I  fairly  screamed :  "  Bertha  Nugent !  Where  is  she  ?  " 


DERELICT.  89 

The  answer  came  back :  "  Here  ! "  And  when  I 
heard  it  my  legs  gave  way  beneath  me  and  I  fell  to 
the  deck.  I  must  have  remained  for  some  minutes 
half  lying,  half  seated,  on  the  deck.  I  was  nearly 
stupefied  by  the  statement  I  had  heard. 

I  will  now  say  a  few  words  concerning  Miss  Bertha 
Nugent.  She  was  a  lady  whom  I  had  known  well  in 
New  York,  and  who,  for  more  than  a  year,  I  had  loved 
well,  although  I  never  told  her  so.  Whether  or  not 
she  suspected  my  passion  was  a  question  about  which 
I  had  never  been  able  to  satisfy  myself.  Sometimes  I 
had  one  opinion;  sometimes  another.  Before  I  had 
taken  any  steps  to  assure  myself  positively  in  regard 
to  this  point,  Miss  Nugent  went  abroad  with  a  party 
of  friends,  and  for  eight  months  I  had  neither  seen 
nor  heard  from  her. 

During  that  time  I  had  not  ceased  to  berate  myself 
for  my  inexcusable  procrastination.  As  she  went 
away  without  knowing  my  feelings  toward  her,  of 
course  there  could  be  no  correspondence.  Whatever 
she  might  have  suspected,  or  whatever  she  might  have 
expected,  there  was  nothing  between  us. 

But  on  my  part  my  love  for  Bertha  had  grown  day 
by  day.  Hating  the  city  and  even  the  country  where 
I  had  seen  her  and  loved  her  and  where  now  she  was 
not,  I  travelled  here  and  there,  and  during  the  winter 
went  to  the  West  Indies.  There  I  had  remained  until 
the  weather  had  become  too  warm  for  a  longer  sojourn, 
and  then  I  had  taken  passage  in  the  Thespia  for  New 
York.  I  knew  that  Bertha  would  return  to  the  city 
in  the  spring  or  summer,  and  I  wished  to  be  there 


90  DERELICT. 

when  she  arrived.  If,  when  I  met  her,  I  found  her 
free,  there  would  be  no  more  delay.  My  life  thence 
forth  would  be  black  or  white.  And  now  here  she 
was  near  me  in  a  half-wrecked  steamer  on  the  wide 
Atlantic,  with  no  companion,  as  I  knew,  but  her  maid, 
Mary  Phillips.  * 

I  now  had  a  very  distinct  recollection  of  Mary 
Phillips.  In  my  visits  to  the  Nugent  household  in 
Forty-second  Street  I  had  frequently  seen  this  young 
woman.  Two  or  three  times  when  Miss  Nugent  had 
not  been  at  home,  I  had  had  slight  interviews  with 
her.  She  always  treated  me  with  a  certain  cordiality, 
and  I  had  some  reason  to  think  that  if  Miss  Nugent 
really  suspected  my  feelings,  Mary  Phillips  had  given 
her  some  hints  on  the  subject. 

Mary  Phillips  was  an  exceedingly  bright  and  quick 
young  woman,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  she  could  see 
into  the  state  of  a  man's  feelings  as  well  as  any  one. 
Bertha  had  given  me  many  instances  of  her  maid's 
facilities  for  adapting  herself  to  circumstances,  and  I 
was  now  thankful  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  that 
Bertha  had  this  woman  with  her. 

I  was  recovering  from  the  stupefaction  into  which 
my  sudden  emotions  had  plunged  me,  when  a  hail 
came  across  the  water,  first  in  Mary  Phillips's  natural 
voice,  and  then  through  a  speaking-trumpet.  I  stood 
up  and  answered. 

"I  was  wondering,"  cried  Mary  Phillips,  "what 
had  become  of  you ;  I  thought  perhaps  you  had  gone 
down  to  breakfast."  In  answer  I  called  to  her  to  tell 
me  where  Miss  Nugent  was,  how  she  was,  how  she 


DERELICT.  91 

came  to  be  in  this  surprising  situation,  and  how  many 
people  there  were  on  board  the  steamer. 

"  Miss  Nugent  has  not  been  at  all  well,"  answered 
Mary,  "but  she  brightened  up  as  soon  as  I  told  her 
you  were  here.  She  cannot  come  on  deck  very  well, 
because  the  pitch  of  the  ship  makes  the  stairs  so 
steep.  But  I  am  going  to  give  her  her  breakfast 
now,  and  after  she  has  eaten  something  she  may  be 
stronger,  and  I  will  try  to  get  her  on  deck." 

Brightened  up  when  she  knew  I  was  near !  That 
was  glorious  !  That  brightened  up  creation. 

By  this  time  I  needed  food  also,  but  I  did  not 
remain  below  to  eat  it.  I  brought  my  breakfast  on 
deck,  keeping  my  eyes  all  the  time  fixed  upon  Ber 
tha's  steamer.  The  distance  between  us  did  not  seem 
to  have  varied.  How  I  longed  for  a  little  breeze  that 
might  bring  us  together  !  Bertha  was  on  that  vessel, 
trusting,  perhaps,  entirely  to  me :  and  what  could  I 
do  if  some  breeze  did  not  bring  us  together  ?  I  looked 
about  for  something  on  which  I  might  float  to  her ; 
but  if  I  made  a  raft  I  was  not  sure  that  I  could  steer 
or  propel  it,  and  I  might  float  away  and  become  a 
third  derelict.  Once  I  thought  of  boldly  springing 
into  the  water,  and  swimming  to  her ;  but  the  dis 
tance  was  considerable,  my  swimming  powers  were 
only  moderate,  and  there  might  be  sharks.  The  risk 
was  too  great.  But  surely  we  would  come  together. 
Even  if  no  kind  wind  arose,  there  was  that  strange 
attraction  which  draws  to  each  other  the  bubbles  on 
a  cup  of  tea.  If  bubbles,  why  not  ships  ? 

It  was  not  long  before  nearly  one-half   of   Mary 


92  DERELICT. 

Phillips  appeared  above  the  rail.  "  Miss  Nugent  nas 
come  on  deck,"  she  cried,  "  and  she  wants  to  see  you. 
She  can't  stand  up  very  long,  because  everything  is 
so  sliding." 

Before  my  trembling  lips  could  frame  an  answer, 
she  had  bobbed  out  of  sight,  and  presently  reappeared 
supporting  another  person,  and  that  other  person  was 
Bertha  Nugent. 

I  could  discern  her  features  perfectly.  She  was 
thinner  and  paler  than  when  I  had  last  seen  her,  but 
her  beauty  was  all  there.  The  same  smile  which  I 
had  seen  so  often  was  upon  her  face  as  she  waved  her 
handkerchief  to  me.  I  waved  my  hat  in  return,  but 
I  tried  two  or  three  times  before  I  could  speak  loud 
enough  for  her  to  hear  me.  Then  I  threw  into  my 
words  all  the  good  cheer  and  hope  that  I  could. 

She  did  not  attempt  to  answer,  but  smiled  more 
brightly  than  before.  Her  expression  seemed  to  in 
dicate  that,  apart  from  the  extraordinary  pleasure  of 
meeting  a  friend  on  this  waste  of  waters,  she  was 
glad  that  I  was  that  friend. 

"  She  can't  speak  loud  enough  for  you  to  hear  her," 
called  out  Mary  Phillips,  "  but  she  says  that  now  you 
are  here  she  thinks  everything  will  be  all  right.  She 
wants  to  know  if  you  are  alone  on  your  ship,  and  if 
you  can  come  to  us." 

I  explained  my  situation,  but  said  I  did  not  doubt 
but  the  two  ships  would  gradually  drift  together. 
"  Is  there  no  one  to  lower  your  boat  ?  "  I  asked. 

"No  one  but  me,"  answered  Mary,  "and  I  don't 
believe  I  am  up  to  that  sort  of  thing.  Miss  Nugent 


DERELICT.  93 

says  _  must  not  touch  it  for  fear  I  might  fall  over 
board." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  I  cried,  "that  there  is 
nobody  but  you  two  on  board  that  steamer  ?  " 

"  No  other  living  soul ! "  said  Mary,  "  and  I'll  tell 
you  how  it  all  happened." 

Then  she  told  their  story.  The  friends  with  whom 
Miss  Nugent  had  travelled  had  determined  to  go  to 
Egypt,  but  as  she  did  not  wish  to  accompany  them, 
she  had  remained  in  Spain  and  Algiers  during  the 
early  spring,  and,  eleven  days  before,  she  and  Mary 
Phillips  had  started  from  Marseilles  for  home  in  the 
steamer  La  FidelM.  Five  days  ago,  the  steamer  had 
collided  in  the  night  with  something,  Mary  did  not 
know  what,  and  her  front  part  was  filled  with  water. 
Everybody  was  sure  that  the  vessel  would  soon  sink, 
and  the  captain,  crew,  and  passengers  —  all  French  — 
went  away  in  boats. 

"  Is  it  possible  "  I  yelled,  "  that  they  deserted  you 
two  women  ?  " 

Mary  Phillips  replied  that  this  was  not  the  case. 
They  had  been  implored  to  go  in  the  boats,  but  the 
night  was  dark,  the  sea  was  rough  and  pitchy,  and 
she  was  sure  the  boat  would  upset  before*  they  had 
gone  a  hundred  yards.  Miss  Nugent  and  she  both 
agreed  that  it  was  much  safer  to  remain  on  a  large 
vessel  like  the  Fidelite,  even  if  she  was  half  full  of 
water,  than  to  go  out  on  the  dark  and  stormy  water 
in  a  miserable  little  shell  of  a  boat.  The  captain  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  implored  them  to  go,  but  they 
were  resolute.  He  then  declared  that  he  would  force 


94  DERELICT. 

them  into  the  craft,  but  Mary  Phillips  declared  that  if 
he  tried  that,  she  would  shoot  him  ;  she  had  a  pistol 
ready.  Then,  when  they  had  all  got  in  the  boats  but 
the  captain,  two  of  the  men  jumped  on  board  again, 
threw  their  arms  around  him  and  carried  him  off, 
vowing  that  he  should  not  lose  his  life  on  account  of 
a  pair  of  senseless  Americans.  A  boat  would  be  left, 
the  men  said,  which  they  might  use  if  they  chose ; 
but,  of  course,  this  was  more  a  piece  of  sentiment 
than  anything  else. 

"And  now  you  see,"  cried  Mary  Phillips,  "I  was 
right,  and  they  were  wrong.  This  steamer  has  not 
sunk ;  and  I  have  no  manner  of  doubt  that  every  soul 
who  went  away  in  those  boats  is  now  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea." 

This  was  indeed  a  wonderful  story;  and  the  fact 
that  Bertha  Nugent  was  on  board  a  derelict  vessel 
and  should  happen  to  fall  in  with  me  on  board  of 
another,  was  one  of  those  events  which  corroborate 
the  trite  and  hackneyed  adage,  that  truth  is  stranger 
than  fiction. 

It  was  surprising  how  plainly  I  could  hear  Mary 
Phillips  across  the  smooth,  still  water.  The  ships  did 
not  now  seem  to  be  moving  at  all;  but  soon  they 
would  be  nearer,  and  then  I  could  talk  with  Bertha. 
And  soon  after  (it  must  be  so)  I  would  be  with 
her. 

I  inquired  if  they  had  food  and  whatever  else  they 
needed ;  and  Mary  Phillips  replied  that,  with  the 
exception  of  the  slanting  position  of  the  ship,  they 
were  very  comfortable ;  that  she  did  the  cooking ; 


DERELICT.  95 

and  that  Miss  Nugent  said  that  they  lived  a  great 
deal  better  than  when  the  ship's  cook  cooked. 

Mary  also  informed  me  that  she  had  arranged  a 
very  nice  couch  for  Miss  Nugent  on  the  afterdeck ; 
that  she  was  lying  there  now,  and  felt  better;  that 
she  wanted  to  know  which  I  thought  the  safer  ship 
of  the  two ;  and  that  whenever  a  little  wind  arose, 
and  the  vessels  were  blown  nearer  each  other,  she 
wished  to  get  up  and  talk  to  me  herself. 

I  answered  that  I  thought  both  the  ships  were  safe 
enough,  and  should  be  delighted  to  talk  with  Miss 
Nugent,  but  in  my  heart  I  could  not  believe  that 
a  vessel  with  her  bow  as  low  as  that  of  the  Fidelit& 
could  be  safe  in  bad  weather,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
possibility  of,  at  any  time,  the  water  bursting  into 
other  compartments  of  the  ship.  The  SparhawJc  I 
believed  to  be  in  much  better  condition.  Despite  the 
fact  that  she  was  utterly  helpless  as  far  as  sailing 
qualities  were  concerned,  the  greater  part  of  her 
masts  and  rigging  being  in  a  wretched  condition,  and 
her  rudder  useless,  she  did  not  appear  to  be  damaged. 
I  had  no  reason  to  believe  that  she  leaked,  and  she 
floated  well,  although,  as  I  have  said,  she  lay  rather 
deep  in  the  water. 

If  the  thing  were  possible,  I  intended  to  get  Bertha 
on  board  the  SparhawJc,  where  there  was  hope  that  we 
could  all  remain  safely  until  we  were  rescued.  With 
this  purpose  in  view,  the  moment  Mary  Phillips  dis 
appeared,  I  went  below  and  prepared  the  captain's 
cabin  for  Bertha  and  her  maid.  I  carried  to  the 
forward  part  of  the  vessel  all  the  pipes,  bottles,  and 


96  DERELICT. 

glasses,  and  such  other  things  as  were  not  suitable  for 
a  lady's  apartment,  and  thoroughly  aired  the  cabin, 
making  it  as  neat  and  comfortable  as  circumstances 
permitted.  The  very  thought  of  offering  hospitality 
to  Bertha  was  a  joy. 

I  proposed  to  myself  several  plans  to  be  used  in 
various  contingencies.  If  the  two  vessels  approached 
near  enough,  I  would  throw  a  line  to  La  Fidelite,  and 
Mary  Phillips  would  make  it  fast,  I  knew.  Then 
with  a  windlass  I  might  draw  the  two  vessels  together. 
Then  I  would  spring  on  board  the  steamer,  and  when 
I  had  transferred  Bertha  and  Mary  to  the  Sparhawk, 
would  cut  loose  La  Fid  elite  to  drift  where  she  pleased. 

It  was  possible  that  I  might  convey  from  one  vessel 
to  the  other  some  articles  of  luxury  or  necessity,  but 
on  this  point  I  would  not  come  to  any  definite  conclu 
sion.  I  would  consult  Mary  Phillips  on  the  subject. 

Another  plan  was  that  if  we  did  not  approach  very 
close,  I  would  endeavor  to  throw  a  long,  light  line  to 
.the  steamer,  and  Mary  Phillips  would  attach  it  to  the 
boat  which  hung  from  the  davits.  Into  this  she  would 
put  a  pair  of  oars  and  lower  it  as  well  as  she  could ; 
then  I  would  haul  it  to  the  Sparhawk,  row  over  to  the 
steamer,  and  transfer  Bertha  and  Mary  to  my  vessel. 
It  was  possible  that  we  should  not  have  to  be  very 
near  each  other  for  me  to  carry  out  this  plan.  Had  I 
been  a  seaman,  I  might  have  thought  of  some  other 
plan  better  than  these.  But  I  was  not  a  seaman. 

I  did  not  waste  any  time  in  the  cabin,  although  I 
was  very  desirous  to  make  it  as  pleasant  as  possible 
for  the  reception  of  Bertha,  but  when  I  returned  to 


DERELICT.  97 

the  deck  I  was  astonished  to  find  that  the  steamer  was 
farther  away  than  it  had  been  when  I  went  below. 
There  was  a  slight  breeze  from  the  east,  which 
had  nearly  turned  the  Sparhawk  about  with  her  bow 
to  the  wind,  but  was  gently  carrying  La  Fidelite 
before  it. 

I  seized  the  speaking-trumpet,  and  with  all  my 
power,  hailed  the  steamer ;  and  in  return  there  came 
to  me  a  single  sound,  the  sound  of  the  vowel  0.  I 
could  see  two  handkerchiefs  fluttering  upon  the  stern. 
In  ten  minutes  these  were  scarcely  discernible. 

Half-crazed,  I  stood  and  gazed,  and  gazed,  and  gazed 
at  the  distant  steamer.  The  wind  died  away,  and  I 
could  perceive  that  she  was  not  becoming  more  distant. 
Then  I  began  to  hope.  Another  wind  might  spring 
up  which  would  bring  her  back. 

And  in  an  hour  or  two  the  other  wind  did  spring 
up;  I  felt  it  in  my  face,  and  slowly  the  Sparhawk 
turned  her  bow  toward  it,  and,  enrapturing  sight ! 
the  steamer,  with  my  Bertha  on  board,  began  to  move 
slowly  back  to  me ! 

The  wind  which  was  now  blowing  came  from  the 
southwest,  and  La^Fid&ttt,  which  before  had  lain  to  the 
southward  of  the  Sparhawk)  was  passing  to  the  north 
of  my  vessel.  Nearer  and  nearer  she  came,  and  my 
whole  soul  was  engaged  in  the  hope  that  she  might 
not  pass  too  far  north. 

But  I  soon  saw  that  unless  the  wind  changed,  the 
steamer  would  probably  pass  within  hailing  distance. 

Soon  I  could  see  Mary  Phillips  on  deck,  speaking- 
trumpet  in  hand;  and  seizing  my  trumpet,  I  hailed 


98  DERELICT. 

when  as  I  thought  we  were  near  enough.  I  eagerly 
inquired  after  Bertha,  and  the  high  voice  of  Mary 
Phillips  came  across  the  water,  telling  me  that  Miss 
Nugent  was  not  feeling  at  all  well.  This  uncertain 
state  of  affairs  was  making  her  feel  very  nervous. 
"  Can  she  come  on  deck  ?  "  I  cried.  "  Can  she  use  a 
speaking-trumpet  ?  If  I  could  talk  to  her,  I  might 
encourage  her." 

"She  needs  it,"  answered  Mary,  "but  she  cannot 
speak  through  the  trumpet ;  she  tried  it,  and  it  made 
her  head  ache.  She  is  here  on  deck,  and  I  am  going 
to  help  her  stand  up  as  soon  as  we  get  nearer.  Per 
haps  she  may  be  able  to  speak  to  you." 

The  two  vessels  were  now  near  enough  for  a  high- 
pitched  conversation  without  the  assistance  of  trum 
pets,  and  Mary  Phillips  assisted  Bertha  to  the  side 
of  the  steamer,  where  I  could  distinctly  see  her.  I 
shouted  as  hearty  a  greeting  as  ever  was  sent  across 
the  water,  bidding  her  to  keep  up  a  good  heart,  for 
help  of  some  kind  must  surely  come  to  us.  She  tried 
to  answer  me,  but  her  voice  was  not  strong  enough. 
Then  she  shook  her  head,  by  which  I  understood  that 
she  did  not  agree  with  me  in  my  hopeful  predictions. 
I  called  back  to  her  that  in  all  this  drifting  about  the 
two  vessels  must  certainly  come  together,  and  then, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  steamer's  boat,  we  could 
certainly  devise  some  way  of  getting  out  of  this  an 
noying  plight.  She  smiled,  apparently  at  the  mildness 
of  this  expression,  and  again  shook  her  head.  She 
now  seemed  tired,  for  her  position  by  the  rail  was  not 
an  easy  one  to  maintain,  and  her  maid  assisted  her  to 


DERELICT.  99 

her  couch  on  the  deck.  Then  stood  up  Mary  Phillips, 
speaking  loud  and  promptly :  — 

"  She  has  a  message  for  you/'  she  said,  "  which  she 
wanted  to  give  to  you  herself,  but  she  cannot  do  it. 
She  thinks — but  I  tell  her  it  is  of  no  use  thinking 
that  way  —  that  we  are  bound  to  be  lost.  You  may 
be  saved  because  your  ship  seems  in  a  better  condi 
tion  than  ours,  and  she  does  not  believe  that  the  two 
vessels  will  ever  come  together ;  so  she  wants  me  to 
tell  you  that  if  you  get  home  and  she  never  does,  that 
she  wishes  her  share  in  the  Forty-second  Street  house 
to  go  to  her  married  sister,  and  to  be  used  for  the 
education  of  the  children.  She  doesn't  want  it  di 
vided  up  in  the  ordinary  way,  because  each  one  will 
get  so  little,  and  it  will  do  no  good.  Do  you  think 
that  will  be  a  good  will  ?  " 

"  Don't  speak  of  wills ! "  I  shouted ;  "  there  is  no 
need  of  a  will.  She  will  get  home  in  safety  and 
attend  to  her  own  affairs." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  cried  Mary  Phillips ;  "  but  I  had 
to  tell  you  what  she  said.  And  now  she  wants  to 
know  if  you  have  any  message  to  send  to  your  parents, 
for  we  might  blow  off  somewhere  and  be  picked  up, 
while  this  might  not  happen  to  you.  But  I  don't 
believe  in  that  sort  of  thing  any  more  than  in  the 
other." 

I  shouted  back  my  disbelief  in  the  necessity  of  any 
such  messages,  when  Mary  Phillips  seized  her  trumpet 
and  cried  that  she  did  not  hear  me. 

Alas !  the  breeze  was  still  blowing,  and  the  steamer 
was  moving  away  to  the  northeast.  Through  my 


100  DERELICT. 

trumpet  I  repeated  my  words,  and  then  Mary  said 
something  which  I  could  not  hear.  The  wind  was 
against  her.  I  shouted  to  her  to  speak  louder,  and 
she  must  have  screamed  with  all  her  force,  but  I 
could  only  hear  some  words  to  the  effect  that  we  were 
bound  to  come  together  again,  and  she  waved  her 
handkerchief  cheerily. 

Then  the  steamer  moved  farther  and  farther  away, 
and  speaking-trumpets  were  of  no  avail.  I  seized  the 
glass,  and  watched  La  Fideltt£  until  she  was  nothing 
but  a  black  spot  upon  the  sea. 

The,  wind  grew  lighter,  and  finally  died  away,  and 
the  black  spot  remained  upon  the  horizon.  I  did  not 
take  my  eyes  from  it  until  night  drew  on  and  blotted 
it  out.  I  had  not  thought  of  advising  Mary  Phillips 
to  hang  out  a  light,  and  she  was  probably  not  suffi 
ciently  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  ships  to  think  of 
doing  it  herself,  although  there  could  be  no  doubt 
that  there  were  lanterns  suitable  for  the  purpose  on 
the  steamer.  Had  there  been  a  light  upon  that  vessel, 
I  should  have  watched  the  glimmer  all  night.  As  it 
was,  I  slept  upon  the  deck,  waking  frequently  to  peer 
out  into  the  darkness,  and  to  listen  for  a  hail  from  a 
speaking-trumpet. 

In  the  morning  there  was  a  -black  spot  upon  the 
horizon.  I  fancied  that  it  was  a  little  nearer  than 
when  I  last  saw  it ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon 
it  faded  away  altogether.  Then  despair  seized  upon 
me,  and  I  cared  not  whether  I  lived  or  died.  I  forgot 
to  eat,  and  threw  myself  upon  the  deck,  where  I  re 
mained  for  several  hours,  upbraiding  myself  for  my 


DERELICT.  101 

monstrous,  unpardonable  folly  in  neglecting  the  oppor 
tunities  which  were  now  lost. 

Over  and  over  again  I  told  myself  bitterly,  that 
when  I  had  been  near  enough  to  the  vessel  which  bore 
Bertha  Nugent  to  converse  with  Mary  Phillips  with 
out  the  aid  of  a  speaking-trumpet,  I  should  have  tried 
to  reach  that  vessel,  no  matter  what  the  danger  or 
the  difficulties.  I  should  have  launched  a  raft  —  I 
should  have  tried  to  swim  —  I  should  have  done 
something. 

And  more  than  that,  even  had  it  been  impossible 
for  me  to  reach  the  steamer,  I  should  have  endeavored 
to  reach  Bertha's  heart.  I  should  have  told  her  that 
I  loved  her.  Whether  she  were  lost  or  I  were  lost,  or 
both  of  us,  she  should  have  known  I  loved  her.  She 
might  not  have  been  able  to  answer  me,  but  she  could 
have  heard  me.  For  that  terrible  mistake,  that  crime, 
there  was  no  pardon.  Now  every  chance  was  gone. 
What  reason  was  there  to  suppose  that  these  two 
derelicts  ever  again  would  drift  together  ? 

In  the  afternoon  I  rose  languidly  and  looked  about 
me.  I  saw  something  on  the  horizon,  and  seizing  the 
glass,  I  knew  it  to  be  La  Fidelite.  I  could  recognize 
the  slant  of  the  hull,  of  the  masts. 

Now  hope  blazed  up  again.  If  she  were  nearer,  she 
must  come  nearer  still.  I  recovered  my  ordinary 
state  of  mind  sufficiently  to  know  that  I  was  hungry, 
and  that  I  must  eat  to  be  strong  and  ready  for  what 
might  happen. 

Upon  one  thing  I  was  determined.  If  Bertha 
should  ever  again  be  brought  near  enough  to  hear  me, 


DERELICT. 

I  would  tell  her  that  I  loved  her.  The  object  of  life, 
however  much  of  it  might  be  left  me,  should  be  to 
make  Bertha  know  that  I  loved  her.  If  I  swam 
toward  the  vessel,  or  floated  on  a  plank,  I  must  get 
near  enough  to  tell  her  that  I  loved  her. 

But  there  was  no  wind,  and  the  apparent  size  of  the 
steamer  did  not  increase.  This  was  a  region  or  sea 
son  of  calms  or  fitful  winds.  During  the  rest  of  the 
day  the  distant  vessel  continued  to  be  a  black  speck 
upon  the  smooth  and  gently  rolling  sea.  Again  I 
spent  the  night  on  deck,  but  I  did  not  wake  to  listen 
or  watch.  I  was  worn  out  and  slept  heavily. 

The  day  was  bright  when  I  was  awakened  by  a 
chilly  feeling :  a  strong  breeze  was  blowing  over  me. 
I  sprang  to  my  feet.  There  was  quite  a  heavy  sea; 
the  vessel  was  rolling  and  pitching  beneath  me,  and 
not  far  away,  not  more  than  a  mile,  La  Fidelite  was 
coming  straight  toward  me.  Lightly  laden,  and  with 
a  great  part  of  her  hull  high  out  of  water,  the  high 
wind  was  driving  her  before  it,  while  my  vessel,  her 
bow  to  the  breeze,  was  moving  at  a  much  slower 
rate. 

As  I  looked  at  the  rapidly  approaching  steamer,  it 
seemed  as  if  she  certainly  must  run  into  the  Spar- 
hawk.  But  for  that  I  cared  not.  All  that  I  now 
hoped  for  was  that  Bertha  should  come  to  me. 
Whether  one  vessel  sank  or  the  other,  or  whether 
both  went  down  together,  I  should  be  with  Bertha,  I 
would  live  or  die  with  her.  Mary  Phillips  stood  full 
in  view  on  the  stern  of  the  oncoming  steamer,  a  speak 
ing-trumpet  in  her  hand.  I  could  now  see  that  it  was 


DERELICT.  103 

not  probable  that  the  two  vessels  would  collide.  The 
steamer  would  pass  me,  but  probably  very  near.  Be 
fore  I  could  make  up  my  mind  what  I  should  do  in 
this  momentous  emergency,  Mary  Phillips  hailed  me. 

"  When  we  get  near  enough,"  she  shouted,  "  throw 
me  a  rope.  I'll  tie  it  to  the  boat  and  cut  it  loosed 

Wildly  I  looked  about  me  for  a  line  which  I  might 
throw.  Cordage  there  was  in  abundance,  but  it  was 
broken  or  fastened  to  something,  or  too  heavy  to  han 
dle.  I  remembered,  however,  seeing  a  coil  of  small 
rope  below,  and  hastening  down,  I  brought  it  on  deck, 
took  the  coil  in  my  right  hand,  and  stood  ready  to 
hurl  it  when  the  proper  moment  should  come. 

That  moment  came  quickly.  The  steamer  was  not 
a  hundred  feet  from  me  when  I  reached  the  deck.  It 
passed  me  on  the  port  side. 

"  Be  ready ! "  cried  Mary  Phillips,  the  instant  she 
saw  me.  It  was  not  now  neces&ary  to  use  a  trumpet. 

"  Throw  as  soon  as  I  get  opposite  to  you ! "  she 
cried. 

"  Is  Bertha  well  ?  "  I  shouted. 

"  Yes  ! "  said  Mary  Phillips  ;  "  but  what  you've  got 
to  do  is  to  throw  that  rope.  Give  it  a  good  heave. 
Throw  now ! " 

The  two  vessels  were  not  fifty  feet  apart.  With  all 
my  strength  I  hurled  the  coil  of  rope.  The  steamer's 
'stern  was  above  me,  and  I  aimed  high.  The  flying 
coil  went  over  the  deck  of  La  Fidelite,  but  in  my 
excitement  I  forgot  to  grasp  tightly  the  other  end  of 
it,  and  the  whole  rope  flew  from  me  and  disappeared 
beyond  the  steamer.  Stupefied  by  this  deplorable 


104  DERELICT. 

accident,  I  staggered  backward  and  a  heave  of  the 
vessel  threw  me  against  the  rail.  Recovering  myself, 
I  glared  about  for  another  rope,  but  of  course  there 
was  none. 

Then  came  a  shout  from  Mary  Phillips.  But  she 
had*already  passed  me,  and  as  I  was  to  the  windward 
of  her  I  did  not  catch  her  words.  As  I  remembered 
her  appearance,  she  seemed  to  be  tearing  her  hair. 
In  a  flash  I  thought  of  my  resolution.  Bushing  to 
the  rail,  I  put  the  trumpet  to  my  mouth.  The  wind 
would  carry  my  words  to  her  if  it  would  not  bring 
hers  to  me. 

"  Tell  Bertha  to  come  on  deck  ! "  I  shouted.  Mary 
Phillips  looked  at  me,  but  did  not  move.  I  wished 
her  to  rush  below  and  bring  up  Bertha.  Not  an  in 
stant  was  to  be  lost.  But  she  did  not  move. 

"  Tell  her  I  love  her ! "  I  yelled  through  the  trum 
pet.  "  Tell  her  that  I  love  her  now  and  shall  love  her 
forever.  Tell  her  I  love  her,  no  matter  what  happens. 
Tell  her  I  love  her,  I  love  her,  I  love  her ! "  And 
this  I  continued  to  scream  until  it  was  plain  I  was  no 
longer  heard.  Then  I  threw  down  my  useless  trumpet 
and  seized  the  glass.*  Madly  I  scanned  the  steamer. 
No  sign  of  Bertha  was  to  be  seen.  Mary  Phillips  was 
there,  and  now  she  waved  her  handkerchief.  At  all 
events  she  forgave  me.  At  such  a  terrible  moment 
what  could  one  do  but  forgive  ? 

I  watched,  and  watched,  and  watched,  but  no  figure 
but  that  of  Mary  Phillips  appeared  upon  the  steamer, 
and  at  last  I  could  not  even  distinguish  that.  Now  I 
became  filled  with  desperate  fury.  I  determined  to 


DERELICT.  105 

sail  after  Bertha  and  overtake  her.  A  great  sail  was 
flapping  from  one  of  my  masts,  and  I  would  put  my 
ship  about,  and  the  strong  wind  should  carry  me  to 
Bertha. 

I  knew  nothing  of  sailing,  but  even  if  I  had  known, 
all  my  efforts  would  have  been  useless. .  I  rushed  to 
the  wheel  and  tried  to  move  it,  pulling  it  this  way 
and  that,  but  the  rudder  was  broken  or  jammed,  —  I 
know  not  what  had  happened  to  it.  I  seized  the  ropes 
attached  to  the  boom  of  the  sail,  I  pulled,  I  jerked,  I 
hauled;  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing.  I  did 
nothing.  At  last,  in  utter  despair  and  exhaustion,  I 
fell  to  the  deck. 

But  before  the  wind  had  almost  died  away,  and 
in  the  afternoon  the  sea  was  perfectly  calm,  and  when 
the  sun  set  I  could  plainly  see  the  steamer  on  the  far- 
off  edge  of  the  glistening  water.  During  the  whole 
of  th<?  next  day  I  saw  her.  She  neither  disappeared 
nor  came  nearer.  Sometimes  I  was  in  the  depths  of 
despair;  sometimes  I  began  to  hope  a  little;  but  I 
had  one  great  solace  in  the  midst  of  my  misery  — 
Bertha  knew  that  I  loved  her.  I  was  positively  sure 
that  my  words  had  been  heard. 

It  was  a  strange  manner  in  which  I  had  told  my 
love.  I  had  roared  my  burning  words  of  passion 
through  a  speaking-trumpet,  and  I  had  told  them  not 
to  Bertha  herself,  but  to  Mary  Phillips.  But  the 
manner  was  of  no  importance.  Bertha  now  knew  that 
I  loved  her.  That  was  everything  to  me. 

As  long  as  light  remained  I  watched  La  Fidelite 
through  the  glass,  but  I  could  see  nothing  but  a  black 


106  DERELICT. 

form  with  a  slanting  upper  line.  She  was  becalmed 
as  I  was.  Why  could  she  not  have  been  becalmed 
near  me?  I  dared  not  let  my  mind  rest  upon  the 
opportunities  I  had  lost  when  she  had  been  becalmed 
near  me.  During  the  night  the  wind  must  have  risen 
again,  for  the  Sparhawk  rolled  and  dipped  a  good 
deal,  troubling  my  troubled  slumbers.  Very  early  in 
the  morning  I  was  awakened  by  what  sounded  like  a 
distant  scream.  I  did  not  know  whether  it  was  a 
dream  or  not ;  but  I  hurried  on  deck.  The  sun  had 
not  risen,  but  as  I  looked  about  I  saw  something 
which  took  away  my  breath;  which  made  me  wonder 
if  I  were  awake,  or  dreaming,  or  mad. 

It  was  Bertha's  steamer  within  hailing  distance ! 

Above  the  rail  I  saw  the  head  and  body  of  Mary 
Phillips,  who  was  screaming  through  the  trumpet.  I 
stood  and  gazed  in  petrified  amazement. 

I  could  not  hear  what  Mary  Phillips  said.  Perhaps 
my  senses  were  benumbed.  Perhaps  the  wind  was 
carrying  away  her  words.  That  it  was  blowing  from 
me  toward  her  soon  became  too  evident.  The  steamer 
was  receding  from  the  Sparhawk.  The  instant  I 
became  aware  of  this  my  powers  of  perception  and 
reasoning  returned  to  me  with  a  burning  flash. 

Bertha  was  going  away  from  me  —  she  was  almost 
gone. 

Snatching  my  trumpet,  I  leaned  over  the  rail  and 
shouted  with  all  my  might :  "  Did  you  hear  me  say  I 
loved  her  ?  Did  you  tell  her  ?  " 

Mary  Phillips  had  put  down  her  trumpet,  but  now 
she  raised  it  again  to  her  mouth,  and  I  could  see  that 


DERELICT.  107 

she  was  going  to  make  a  great  effort.  The  distance 
between  us  had  increased  considerably  since  I  came 
on  deck,  and  she  had  to  speak  against  the  wind. 

With  all  the  concentrated  intensity  which  high- 
strung  nerves  could  give  to  a  man  who  is  trying  to 
hear  the  one  thing  to  him  worth  hearing  in  the  world, 
I  listened.  Had  a  wild  beast  fixed  his  claws  and  teeth 
into  me  at  the  moment  I  would  not  have  withdrawn 
my  attention. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Mary  Phillips,  faint,  far  away. 
I  heard  the  words,  "  Yes,  but  — "  and  the  rest  was 
lost.  She  must  have  known  from  my  aspect  that  her 
message  did  not  reach  me,  for  she  tried  again  and 
again  to  make  herself  heard. 

The  wind  continued  to  blow,  and  the  steamer  con 
tinued  to  float  and  float  and  float  away.  A  wind  had 
come  up  in  the  night.  It  had  blown  Bertha  near  me ; 
perhaps  it  had  blown  her  very  near  me.  She  had  not 
known  it,  and  I  had  not  known  it.  Mary  Phillips 
had  not  known  it  until  it  was  too  late,  and  now  that 
wind  had  blown  her  past  me  and  was  blowing  her 
away.  For  a  time  there  was  a  flutter  of  a  handker 
chief,  but  only  one  handkerchief,  and  then  La  Fidelite, 
with  Bertha  on  board,  was  blown  away  until  she  dis 
appeared,  and  I  never  saw  her  again. 

All  night  I  sat  upon  the  deck  of  the  fiparhawJc, 
thinking,  wondering,  and  conjecturing.  I  was  in  a 
strange  state  of  mind.  I  did  not  wonder  or  conjecture 
whether  Bertha's  vessel  would  come  back  to  me  again; 
I  did  not  think  of  what  I  should  do  if  it  did  come 
back.  I  did  not  think  of  what  I  should  do  if  it  never 


108  DERELICT. 

came  back.  All  night  I  thought,  wondered,  and  conjec 
tured  what  Mary  Phillips  had  meant  by  the  word  "  but." 

It  was  plain  to  me  what  "yes"  had  meant.  My 
message  had  been  heard,  and  I  knew  Mary  Phillips 
well  enough  to  feel  positively  sure  that  having  received 
such  a  message  under  such  circumstances  she  had 
given  it  to  Bertha.  Therefore  I  had  positive  proof 
that  Bertha  knew  that  I  loved  her.  But  what  did  the 
"but"  mean? 

It  seemed  to  me  that  there  were  a  thousand  things 
that  this  word  might  mean.  It  might  mean  that  she 
was  already  engaged  to  be  married.  It  might  mean 
that  she  had  vowed  never  to  marry.  It  might  mean 
that  she  disapproved  of  such  words  at  such  a  time.  I 
cannot  repeat  the  tenth  of  the  meanings  which  I 
thought  I  might  attach  to  this  word.  But  the  worst 
thing  that  it  could  purport,  the  most  terrible  significa 
tion  of  all,  recurred  to  me  over  and  over  again.  It 
might  mean  that  Bertha  could  not  return  my  affection. 
She  knew  that  I  loved  her,  but  she  could  not  love  me. 

In  the  morning  I  ate  something  and  then  lay  down 
upon  the  deck  to  sleep.  It  was  well  that  I  should  do 
this,  I  thought,  because  if  Bertha  came  near  me  again 
in  the  daytime  Mary  Phillips  would  hail  me  if  I  were 
not  awake.  All  night  long  I  would  watch,  and,  as 
there  was  a  moon,  I  would  see  Bertha's  vessel  if  it 
came  again. 

I  did  watch  all  that  afternoon  and  all  that  night, 
and  during  my  watching  I  never  ceased  to  wonder  and 
conjecture  what  Mary  Phillips  meant  by  that  word 
"but." 


DERELICT.  109 

About  the  middle  of  the  next  day  I  saw  in  the  dis 
tance  something  upon  the  water.  I  first  thought  it  a 
bit  of  spray,  for  it  was  white,  but  as  there  were  now 
no  waves  there  could  be  no  spray.  With  the  glass  I 
could  only  see  that  it  was  something  white  shining  in 
the  sun.  It  might  be  the  glistening  body  of  a  dead 
fish.  After  a  time  it  became  plainer  to  me.  It  was 
such  a  little  object  that  the  faint  breezes  which  occa 
sionally  arose  had  more  influence  upon  the  Sparhawk 
than  upon  it,  and  so  I  gradually  approached  it. 

In  about  an  hour  I  made  out  that  it  was  something 
round,  with  something  white  raised  above  it,  and  then 
I  discovered  that  it  was  a  life-preserver,  which  sup 
ported  a  little  stick,  to  which  a  white  flag,  probably 
a  handkerchief,  was  attached.  Then  I  saw  that  on 
the  life-preserver  lay  a  little  yellow  mass. 

Now  I  knew  what  it  was  that  I  saw.  It  was  a 
message  from  Bertha.  Mary  Phillips  had  devised 
the  means  of  sending  it.  Bertha  had  sent  it. 

The  life-preserver  was  a  circular  one,  filled  with 
air.  In  the  centre  of  this,  Mary,  by  means  of  many 
strings,  had  probably  secured  a  stick  in  an  upright 
position ;  she  had  then  fastened  a  handkerchief  to  the 
top  of  the  stick.  Bertha  had  written  a  message  and 
Mary  had  wrapped  it  in  a  piece  of  oiled  silk  and  fas 
tened  it  to  the  life-preserver.  She  had  then  lowered 
this  contrivance  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  hoping 
that  it  would  float  to  me  or  I  would  float  to  it. 

I  was  floating  to  it.  It  contained  the  solution  of 
all  my  doubts,  the  answer  to  all  my  conjectures.  It 
was  Bertha's  reply  to  my  declaration  of  love,  and  I 


110  DERELICT. 

was  drifting  slowly  but  surely  toward  it.  Soon  I 
would  know. 

But  after  a  time  the  course  of  the  Sparhawk  or  the 
course  of  the  message  changed.  I  drifted  to  the 
north.  Little  by  little  my  course  deviated  from  the 
line  on  which  I  might  have  met  the  message.  At  last 
I  saw  that  I  should  never  meet  it.  When  I  became 
convinced  of  this,  my  first  impulse  was  to  spring  over 
board  and  swim  for  it.  But  I  restrained  this  impulse, 
as  I  had  restrained  others  like  it.  If  Bertha  came 
back,  I  must  be  ready  to  meet  her.  I  must  run  no 
risks,  for  her  sake  and  my  sake.  She  must  find  me 
on  the  Sparhawk  if  she  should  come  back.  She  had 
left  me  and  she  had  come  back ;  she  might  come  back 
again.  Even  to  get  her  message  I  must  not  run  the 
risk  of  missing  her.  And  so  with  yearning  heart  and 
perhaps  tearful  eyes  I  watched  the  little  craft  disap 
pear  and  become  another  derelict. 

I  do  not  know  how  many  days  and  nights  I  watched 
and  waited  for  Bertha's  ship  and  wondered  and  con 
jectured  what  Mary  Phillips  meant  by  "  but."  I  was 
awake  so  much  and  ate  so  little  and  thought  so  hard 
that  I  lost  strength,  both  of  mind  and  body.  All 
I  asked  of  my  body  was  to  look  out  for  Bertha's 
steamer,  and  all  that  I  asked  of  my  mind  was  to  re 
solve  the  meaning  of  the  last  words  I  had  heard  from 
that  vessel. 

One  day,  I  do  not  know  whether  it  was  in  the  morn 
ing  or  afternoon,  I  raised  my  head,  and  on  the  horizon 
I  saw  a  steamer.  Quick  as  a  flash  my  glass  was 
brought  to  bear  upon  it.  In  the  next  minute  my  arms 


DERELICT.  Ill 

dropped,  the  telescope  fell  into  my  lap,  my  head 
dropped.  It  was  not  Bertha's  steamer;  it  was  an 
ordinary  steamer  with  its  deck  parallel  with  the  water 
and  a  long  line  of  smoke  coming  out  of  its  funnel. 
The  shock  of  the  disappointment  was  very  great. 

When  I  looked  up  again  I  could  see  that  the  steamer 
was  headed  directly  toward  me,  and  was  approaching 
with  considerable  rapidity.  But  this  fact  affected  me 
little.  It  would  not  bring  me  Bertha.  It  would  not 
bring  me  any  message  from  her.  It  was  an  ordinary 
vessel  of  traffic.  I  took  no  great  interest  in  it,  one 
way  or  the  other. 

Before  long  it  was  so  near  that  I  could  see  people 
on  board.  I  arose  and  looked  over  the  rail.  Then 
some  one  on  the  steamer  fired  a  gun  or  a  pistol.  As 
this  seemed  to  be  a  signal,  I  waved  my  hat.  Then 
the  steamer  began  to  move  more  slowly,  and  soon  lay 
to  and  lowered  a  boat. 

In  ten  minutes  three  men  stood  on  the  deck  of  the 
Sparkawk.  Some  one  had  hailed  me  in  English  to 
lower  something.  I  had  lowered  nothing;  but  here 
they  were  on  deck.  They  asked  me  a  lot  of  questions, 
but  I  answered  none  of  them. 

"  Is  your  captain  with  you  ?  "  I  said.  They  an 
swered  that  he  was  not,  that  he  was  on  the  steamer. 
"  Then  take  me  to  him,"  said  I. 

"  Of  course  we  will,"  said  their  leader,  with  a  smile. 
And  they  took  me. 

I  was  received  on  the  steamer  with  much  cordiality 
and  much  questioning,  but  to  none  of  it  did  I  pay  any 
attention.  I  addressed  the  captain. 


112  DERELICT. 

"  Sir/'  said  I,  "  I  will  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  will 
immediately  cruise  to  the  southwest  and  pick  up  foi 
me  a  life-preserver  with  a  little  white  flag  attached  to 
it.  It  also  carries  a  message  for  me,  wrapped  up  in  a 
piece  of  oiled  silk.  It  is  very  important  that  I  should 
obtain  that  message  without  delay." 

The  captain  laughed.  "  Why,  man ! "  said  he, 
"  what  are  you  thinking  of  ?  Do  you  suppose  that 
I  can  go  out  of  my  course  to  cruise  after  a  life- 
preserver  ?  " 

I  looked  at  him  with  scorn.  "  Unmanly  fiend !  " 
said  I. 

Another  officer  now  approached,  whom  I  afterward 
knew  to  be  the  ship's  doctor. 

"Come,  come  now,"  he  said,  "don't  let  us  have 
any  hard  words.  The  captain  is  only  joking.  Of 
course  he  will  steam  after  your  life-preserver,  and  no 
doubt  will  come  up  with  it  very  soon.  In  the  mean 
time  you  must  come  below  and  have  something  to 
eat  and  drink  and  rest  yourself."  • 

Satisfied  with  this  assurance,  I  went  below,  was 
given  food  and  medicine,  and  was  put  into  a  berth, 
where  I  remained  for  four  days  in  a  half-insensible 
condition,  knowing  nothing  —  caring  for  nothing. 

When  I  came  on  deck  again  I  was  very  weak,  but  I 
had  regained  my  senses,  and  the  captain  and  I  talked 
rationally  together.  I  told  him  how  I  had  come  on 
board  the  SparhawJc,  and  how  I  had  fallen  in  with  the 
La  Fidelite,  half  wrecked,  having  on  board  only  a  dear 
friend  of  mine.  In  answer  to  his  questions  I  described 
the  details  of  the  communications  between  the  two 


DERELICT.  113 

vessels,  and  could  not  avoid  mentioning  the  wild  hopes 
and  heart-breaking  disappointments  of  that  terrible 
time.  And,  somewhat  to  my  languid  surprise,  the 
captain  asked  no  questions  regarding  these  subjects. 
I  finished  by  thanking  him  for  having  taken  me  from 
the  wreck,  but  added  that  I  felt  like  a  false-hearted 
coward  for  having  deserted  upon  the  sea  the  woman  I 
loved,  who  now  would  never  know  my  fate  nor  I  hers. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  the  captain,  "  for 
you  are  about  to  hear  from  her  now." 

I  gazed  at  him  in  blank  amazement.  "Yes,"  said 
the  captain,  "  I  have  seen  her,  and  she  has  sent  me  to 
you.  But  I  see  you  are  all  knocked  into  a  heap,  and 
I  will  make  the  story  as  short  as  I  can.  This  vessel 
of  mine  is  bound  from  Liverpool  to  La  Guayra,  and 
on  the  way  down  we  called  at  Lisbon.  On  the  morn 
ing  of  the  day  I  was  to  sail  from  there,  there  came  into 
port  the  Glanford,  a  big  English  merchantman,  from 
Buenos  Ayres  to  London.  I  knew  her  skipper,  Cap 
tain  Guy  Chesters,  as  handsome  a  young  English  sailor 
as  ever  stood  upon  a  deck. 

"  In  less  than  an  hour  from  the  time  we  dropped 
anchor,  Captain -Guy  was  on  my  vessel.  He  was  on 
the  lookout,  he  said,  for  some  craft  bound  for  South 
America  or  the  West  Indies,  and  was  delighted  to 
find  me  there.  Then  he  told  me  that,  ten  days  before, 
he  had  taken  two  ladies  from  a  half -wrecked  French 
steamer,  and  that  they  had  prayed  and  besought  him 
to  cruise  about  and  look  for  the  SpartiawJc,  a  helpless 
ship,  with  a  friend  of  theirs  alone  on  board. 

"<  You  know/  said  Captain  Guy  to  me,  <I  couldn't 


114  DERELICT. 

do  that,  for  Fd  lost  time  enough  already,  and  the 
wind  was  very  light  and  variable ;  so  all  I  could  do 
was  to  vow  to  the  ladies  that  when  we  got  to  Lisbon 
we'd  be  bound  to  find  a  steamer  going  south,  and  that 
she  could  easily  keep  a  lookout  for  the  Sparhawk,  and 
take  off  the  friend/  '  That  was  a  pretty  big  contract 
you  marked  out  for  the  steamer  going  south/  I  said, 
'and  as  for  the  Sparhawk,  she's  an  old  derelict,  and 
I  sighted  her  on  my  voyage  north,  and  sent  in  a 
report  of  her  position,  and  there  couldn't  have  been 
anybody  on  board  of  her  then.'  'Can't  say/  said 
Captain  Guy ;  i  from  what  I  can  make  out,  this  fellow 
must  have  boarded  her  a  good  while  after  she  was 
abandoned,  and  seems  to  have  been  lying  low  after 
that.'  Was  that  so,  sir  ?  Did  you  lie  low  ?  " 

I  made  no  answer.  My  whole  soul  was  engaged  in 
the  comprehension  of  the  fact  that  Bertha  had  sent 
for  me.  "  Go  on !  "  I  cried. 

"All  right,"  said  he.  "I  ought  not  to  keep  you 
waiting.  I  promised  Captain  Guy  I  would  keep  a 
lookout  for  the  Sparhawk,  and  take  you  off  if  you 
were  on  board.  I  promised  the  quicker,  because  my 
conscience  was  growling  at  me  for  having,  perhaps, 
passed  a  fellow-being  on  an  abandoned  vessel.  But  I 
had  heard  of  the  SparhawJc  before.  I  had  sighted 
her,  and  so  didn't  keep  a  very  sharp  lookout  for  living 
beings  aboard.  Then  Captain  Guy  took  me  on  board 
his  ship  to  see  the  two  ladies,  for  they  wranted  to  give 
me  instructions  themselves.  And  I  tell  you  what, 
sir,  you  don't  often  see  two  prettier  women  on  board 
ship,  nor  anywhere  else,  for  that  matter.  Captain 


DERELICT.  115 

Guy  told  me  that  before  I  saw  them.  He  was  in  great 
spirits  about  his  luck.  He  is  the  luckiest  fellow  in 
the  merchant  service.  Now,  if  I  had  picked  up  two 
people  that  way,  it  would  have  been  two  old  men. 
But  he  gets  a  couple  of  lovely  ladies  ;  that's  the  way 
the  world  goes.  The  ladies  made  me  pretty  nigh 
swear  that  I'd  never  set  foot  on  shore  till  I  found 
you.  I  would  have  been  glad  enough  to  stay  there 
all  day  and  make  promises  to  those  women ;  but  my 
time  was  short,  and  I  had  to  leave  them  to  Captain 
Guy.  So  I  did  keep  a  lookout  for  the  Sparhawlc,  and 
heard  of  her  from  two  vessels  coming  north,  and 
finally  fell  in  with  you.  And  a  regular  lunatic  you 
were  when  I  took  you  on  board ;  but  that's  not  to  be 
wondered  at ;  and  you  seem  to  be  all  right  now." 

"  Did  you  not  bring  me  any  message  from  them  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  lots/'  said  the  captain.  "  Let  me  see  if 
I  can  remember  some  of  them."  And  then  he  knit 
his  brows  and  tapped  his  head,  and  repeated  some 
very  commonplace  expressions  of  encouragement  and 
sympathy. 

The  effect  of  these  upon  me  was  very  different  from 
what  the  captain  had  expected.  I  had  hoped  for  a 
note,  a  line  —  anything  direct  from  Bertha.  Tf  she 
had  written  something  which  wou]d  explain  the 
meaning  of  those  last  words  from  Mary  Phillips, 
whether  that  explanation  were  favorable  or  other 
wise,  I  would  have  been  better  satisfied ;  but  now  my 
terrible  suspense  must  continue. 

"Well/'  said  the  captain,  "you  don't  seem  cheered 


116  DERELICT. 

up  much  by  word  from  your  friends.  I  was  too  busy 
looking  at  them  to  rightly  catch  everything  they  said, 
but  I  know  they  told  me  they  were  going  to  London 
in  the  Glanford.  This  I  remembered,  because  it 
struck  me  what  a  jolly  piece  of  good  luck  it  all  was 
for  Captain  Guy." 

"  And  for  what  port  are  you  bound  ? "  I  asked. 
"  La  Guayra,"  he  said.  "  It  isn't  a  very  good  time  of 
the  year  to  be  there ;  but  I  don't  doubt  that  you  can 
find  some  vessel  or  other  there  that  will  take  you 
north,  so  you're  all  right." 

I  was  not  all  right.  Bertha  was  saved.  I  was 
saved ;  but  I  had  received  no  message.  I  knew  noth 
ing  ;  and  I  was  going  away  from  her. 

Two  or  three  days  after  this,  the  captain  came  to 
me  and  said :  (( Look  here,  young  man ;  you  seem 
to  be  in  the  worst  kind  of  doleful  dumps.  People 
who  have  been  picked  up  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean 
don't  generally  look  like  that.  I  wonder  if  you're 
not  a  little  love-sick  on  account  of  a  young  woman  on 
the  Glanford." 

I  made  no  answer ;  I  would  not  rebuke  him,  for  he 
had  saved  my  life;  but  this  was  a  subject  which  I  did 
not  wish  to  discuss  with  a  sea-captain. 

"  If  that's  really  what's  the  matter  with  you,"  said 
he,  "  I  can  give  you  a  piece  of  advice  which  will  do 
you  good  if  you  take  it.  I  think  you  told  me  that  you 
are  not  engaged  to  this  lady,"  (I  nodded)  "  and  that 
you  never  proposed  to  her  except  through  a  speaking- 
trumpet."  I  allowed  silence  to  make  assent.  "Well, 
now,  my  advice  is  to  give  her  up,  to  drop  all  thoughts 


DERELICT.  117 

of  her,  and  to  make  up  your  mind  to  tackle  onto  some 
other  girl  when  you  find  one  that  is  good  enough. 
You  haven't  the  least  chance  in  the  world  with  this 
one.  Captain  Guy  is  mad  in  love  with  her.  He  told 
me  so  himself,  and  when  he's  out  and  out  in  love  with 
a  girl  he's  bound  to  get  her.  When  I  was  with  him 
he  might  have  been  married  once  a  month  if  he'd 
chosen  to ;  but  he  didn't  choose.  Now  he  does  choose, 
and  I  can  tell  you  that  he's  not  going  to  make  love 
through  a  speaking-trumpet.  He'll  go  straight  at  it, 
and  he'll  win,  too.  There's  every  reason  why  he 
should  win.  In  the  first  place,  he's  one  of  the  hand 
somest  fellows,  and  I  don't  doubt  one  of  the  best  love- 
makers  that  you  would  be  likely  to  meet  on  land  or 
sea.  And  then  again,  she  has  every  reason  to  be  grate 
ful  to  him  and  to  look  on  him  as  a  hero." 

I  listened  without  a  word.  The  captain's  reasoning 
seemed  to  me  very  fallacious. 

"You  don't  know  it,"  said  he,  "but  Captain  Guy 
did  a  good  deal  more  than  pick  up  those  two  women 
from  an  abandoned  vessel.  You  see  he  was  making 
his  way  north  with  a  pretty  fair  wind  from  the  south 
west,  the  first  they'd  had  for  several  days,  and  when 
his  lookout  sighted  La.  FidelM  nobody  on  board 
thought  for  a  minute  that  he  would  try  to  beat  up 
to  her,  for  she  lay  a  long  way  to  the  west  of  his 
course,  though  pretty  well  in  sight. 

"  But  Captain  Guy  has  sharp  eyes  and  a  good  glass, 
and  he  vowed  that  he  could  see  something  on  the 
wreck  that  looked  like  a  handkerchief  waved  by  a 
woman.  He  told  me  this  himself  as  we  were  walking 


118  DERELICT. 

from  my  ship  to  his.  Everybody  laughed  at  him  and 
wanted  to  know  if  women  waved  handkerchiefs  differ 
ent  from  other  people. 

"  They  said  that  any  bit  of  canvas  might  wave  like 
that,  and  that  it  was  plain  enough  that  the  vessel  was 
abandoned.  If  it  was  not,  it  could  be,  for  there  was  a 
boat  still  hanging  to  one  of  its  davits.  Captain  Guy 
paid  no  attention  to  this,  but  spied  a  little  longer; 
then  he  vowed  that  he  was  going  to  make  for  that 
vessel.  There  was  one  of  the  owners  on  board,  and 
he  up  and  forbid  Captain  Guy  to  do  it.  He  told  him 
that  they  had  been  delayed  enough  on  the  voyage  by 
light  winds,  and  now  that  they  would  be  over-due  at 
their  port  a  good  many  days  before  they  got  there. 
Every  day  lost,  he  said,  was  money  lost  to  the  owners. 
He  had  never  heard  of  any  skipper  undertaking  a 
piece  of  tomfoolery  like  this.  It  would  take  all  day 
to  beat  up  to  that  wreck,  and  when  they  reached  it 
they  would  find  an  old  derelict,  which  was  no  more 
than  they  could  see  now.  And  as  for  there  being  a 
woman  on  board,  that  was  all  stuff.  The  skipper  had 
woman  on  the  brain. 

"To  this  Captain  Guy  answered  that  he  didn't  own 
the  ship,  but  he  commanded  her,  and  as  long  as  he 
commanded  this  vessel  or  any  other,  he  was  not  going 
to  pass  a  wreck  when  there  were  good  reasons  to 
believe  that  there  was  a  human  being  on  board  of 
it,  and  in  spite  of  what  anybody  said,  his  eyes  told 
him  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  that  there  was 
somebody  waving  on  that  wreck.  So  he  ordered  the 
ship  put  about,  paying  no  attention  to  the  cursing  and 


DERELICT.  119 

swearing  of  the  owner,  and  beat  against  a  wind  that 
was  getting  lighter  and  lighter  for  over  four  hours 
until  he  reached  the  French  steamer  and  took  off  the 
two  ladies. 

"There  was  nobody  on  board  the  Glanford  that 
thinks  that  Captain  Guy  will  ever  sail  that  ship 
again.  And  in  fact  he  don't  think  so  himself.  But 
said  he  to  me :  "If  I  can  marry  that  girl,  the  ship 
can  go.  If  I  can't  get  another  ship,  I  can  sail  under 
a  skipper.  But  there's  no  other  girl  in  the  world  like 
this  one." 

"And  so  you  see,  sir,"  he  continued,  "there  isn't 
the  least  chance  in  the  world  for  you.  Captain  Guy's 
got  her  on  board  his  ship ;  he's  with  her  by  sunlight 
and  starlight.  He's  lost  his  ship  for  her  and  he  wants 
to  marry  her.  And  on  the  other  hand,  it'll  be  weeks 
and  weeks  and  perhaps  months  before  you  can  see 
her,  or  write  to  her  either,  as  like  as  not,  and  long 
before  that  Captain  Guy  will  have  his  affair  settled, 
and  there  isn't  any  reason  in  my  mind  to  doubt  which 
way  it  will  settle.  And  so  you  just  take  my  advice, 
sir,  and  stop  drawing  that  long  face.  There  are  plenty 
of  good  girls  in  the  world ;  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't 
get  one ;  but  if  you  are  moping  for  the  one  that  Cap 
tain  Guy's  got  his  heart  set  on,  I'm  afraid  you'll  end 
by  being  as  much  out  of  your  head  as  you  were  wher 
I  found  you." 

To  all  this  I  made  no  answer,  but  walked  gloomily 
toward  the  stern  and  looked  down  into  the  foaming 
wake.  I  think  I  heard  the  captain  tell  one  of  the 
men  to  keep  an  eye  on  me. 


120  DERELICT. 

When  we  reached  La  Guayra  —  and  the  voyage 
seemed  to  me  a  never-ending  one  —  I  immediately  set 
about  finding  a  vessel  bound  for  England.  My  captain 
advised  me  to  go  up  on  the  mountains  and  wait  until  a 
steamer  should  sail  for  New  York,  which  event  might 
be  expected  in  two  or  three  weeks.  America  would 
be  much  better  for  me,  he  thought,  than  would  Eng 
land.  But  I  paid  no  attention  to  him,  and  as  there 
was  nothing  in  port ,  that  would  sail  for  England,  I 
took  passage  in  a  Spanish  steamer  bound  for  Bar 
celona.  Arriving  there,  after  a  passage  long  enough 
to  give  me  plenty  of  time  for  the  consideration  of  the 
last  two  words  I  heard  from  Mary  Phillips,  and  of 
the  value  of  the  communications  I  had  received  regard 
ing  Captain  Guy  Chesters,  I  immediately  started  by 
rail  for  London.  On  this  journey  I  found  that  what 
I  had  heard  concerning  the  rescue  of  my  Bertha 
had  had  a  greater  effect  upon  me  than  I  had  sup 
posed.  Trains  could  not  go  fast  enough  for  me.  I 
was  as  restless  as  a  maniac ;  I  may  have  looked  like 
one. 

Over  and  over  I  tried  to  quiet  myself  by  comforting 
reflections,  saying  to  myself,  for  instance,  that  if  the 
message  which  Bertha  had  sent  floating  on  the  sea  to 
me  had  not  been  a  good  one,  she  would  not  have  sent 
it.  Peel  as -she  might,  she  could  not  have  been  so 
hard-hearted  as  to  crush  the  hopes  of  a  man  who,  like 
herself,  might  soon  lie  in  a  watery  grave.  But  then, 
there  was  that  terrible  word  "but."  Looked  at  in 
certain  lights,  what  could  be  more  crushing  or  heart 
breaking  than  that  ? 


DERELICT.  121 

And  then  again,  Mary  Phillips  may  not  have  under 
stood  what  I  said  to  her  through  the  speaking-trumpet. 
A  grim  humor  of  despair  suggested  that  at  that  dis 
tance,  and  in  that  blustering  wind,  the  faithful  maid 
servant  might  have  thought  that  instead  of  shouting 
that  I  loved  my  Bertha,  I  was  asking  her  if  they  had 
plenty  of  salt  pork  and  hardtack.  It  was  indeed  a 
time  of  terrible  suspense. 

I  did  not  know  Bertha's  address  in  England.  I 
knew  that  she  had  friends  in  London  and  others  in  the 
country ;  but  I  was  sure  that  I  would  find  her  if  she 
were  on  the  island.  I  arrived  in  London  very  early 
in  the  morning,  too  early  to  expect  to  find  open  any 
of  the  banking-houses  or  other  places  where  Americans 
would  be  likely  to  register.  Unable  to  remain  inac 
tive,  I  took  a  cab  and  drove  to  the  London  docks. 

I  went  to  inquire  the  whereabouts  of  Captain  Guy 
Chesters. 

This  plan  of  action  was  almost  repulsive  to  me,  but 
I  felt  that  it  offered  an  opportunity  which  I  should 
not  neglect.  I  would  certainly  learn  about  Bertha  if 
I  saw  him,  and  whether  it  would  be  anything  good  or 
anything  bad  I  ought  to  know  it. 

In  making  my  inquiries  the  cabman  was  of  much 
assistance  to  me.  And  after  having  been  referred 
from  one  person  to  another,  I  at  last  found  a  man, 
first  mate  of  a  vessel  in  the  docks,  who  knew  Captain 
Chesters,  and  could  tell  me  all  about  him. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  "I  can  tell  you  where  to  find 
Captain  Chesters.  He's  on  shore,  for  he  doesn't  com 
mand  the  Glanford  now,  and  as  far  as  I  know  he  hasn't 


122  DERELICT. 

signed  articles  yet  either  as  skipper  or  mate  in  any 
other  craft.  The  fact  is,  he's  engaged  in  business, 
which  I  suppose  he  thinks  better  than  sailing  the  sea. 
He  was  married  about  a  month  ago.  It's  only  two  or 
three  days  since  he's  got  back  from  a  little  land  trip 
they  took  on  the  Continent.  I  saw  him  yesterday: 
he's  the  happiest  man  alive.  But  it's  as  like  as  not 
that  he's  ready  for  business  now  that  he's  got  through 
with  his  honeymoon,  and  if  it's  a  skipper  you're  look 
ing  for  you  can't  find  a  better  man  than  Captain  Guy, 
not  about  these  docks." 

I  stood  and  looked  at  the  man  without  seeing  him, 
and  then  in  a  hollow  voice  asked :  "  Where  does  he 
live  ?  " 

"A  hundred  and  nine  Lisbury  Street,  Calistoy  Eoad, 
East.  Now  that  I've  told  you,  I  wish  I  hadn't.  You 
look  as  though  you  were  going  to  measure  him  for  a 
coffin." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I,  and  walked  away. 

I  told  the  cabman  to  drive  me  to  the  address  I  had 
received,  and  in  due  time  we  arrived  in  front  of  a 
very  good-looking  house,  in  a  quiet  and  respectable 
street. 

I  was  in  a  peculiar  state  of  mind.  I  had  half  ex 
pected  the  terrible  shock,  and  I  had  received  it.  But 
I  had  not  been  stunned ;  I  had  been  roused  to  an  un 
usual  condition  of  mental  activity.  My  senses  were 
sharpened  by  the  torment  of  my  soul,  and  I  observed 
everything,  —  the  quarter  of  the  city,  the  street,  the 
house. 

The  woman  who  opened  the  door  started  a  little 


DERELICT.  123 

when  she  saw  ine.  I  asked  for  Mrs.  Captain  Chesters, 
and  walked  in  without  waiting  to  be  told  whether  the 
lady  was  in  or  not.  The  woman  showed  me  into  a 
little  parlor,  and  left  me.  Her  manner  plainly  indi 
cated  that  she  suspected  something  was  the  matter 
with  me. 

In  a  very  short  time  a  tall,  well-made  man,  with 
curly  brown  hair,  a  handsome,  sun-browned  face,  and 
that  fine  presence  which  command  at  sea  frequently 
gives,  entered  the  room. 

"I  understand,  sir,"  said  he,  "that  you  asked  for 
my  wife,  but  I  thought  it  better  to  come  to  you  my 
self.  What  is  your  business  with  her,  sir,  and  what 
is  your  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Charles  Bockwell,"  I  said,  "  and  my 
business  is  to  see  her.  If  she  has  already  forgotten 
my  name,  you  can  tell  her  that  I  kept  company  with 
her  for  a  while  on  the  Atlantic  Ocea%  when  she  was 
in  one  wreck  and  I  was  in  another." 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  cried  the  young  sailor ;  "  do  you 
mean  to  say  that  you  are  the  man  who  was  on  the 
derelict  Sparliawk  f  And  were  you  picked  up  by 
Captain  Stearns,  whom  I  sent  after  you  ?  I  supposed 
he  would  have  written  to  me  about  you." 

"I  came  faster  than  a  letter  would  come,"  I  an 
swered.  "  Can  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  can ! "  cried  Captain  Guy.  "I  never 
knew  a  man  so  talked  about  as  you  have  been  since  I 
fell  in  with  the  wreck  of  that  French  steamer !  By 
George  !  sir,  there  was  a  time  when  I  was  dead  jealous 
of  you.  But  I'm  married  tight  and  fast  now,  and  that 


124  DERELICT. 

sort  of  thing  is  done  with.  Of  course  you  shall  see 
her." 

He  left  the  room,  and  presently  I  heard  the  sound 
of  running  footsteps.  The  door  was  opened,  and 
Mary  Phillips  entered,  closely  followed  by  the  cap 
tain.  I  started  back ;  I  shouted  as  if  I  had  a  speak 
ing-trumpet  to  my  mouth  :  — 

"  What ! ''  I  cried ;  "  is  this  your  wife  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Captain  Guy,  stepping  forward,  "of 
course  she  is.  Why  not  ?  " 

I  made  no  answer,  but  with  open  arms  I  rushed 
upon  Mary  Phillips  and  folded  her  in  a  wild  embrace. 
I  heard  a  burst  of  nautical  oaths,  and  probably  would 
have  been  felled  by  a  nautical  fist,  had  not  Mary 
screamed  to  her  husband  :  — 

"  Stop,  Guy ! "  she  cried ;  "  I  understand  him.  It's 
all  right.  He's  so  glad  to  see  me." 

I  released  her  from  my  embrace,  and,  staggering 
back,  sank  upon  a  chair. 

"  Go  get  him  a  glass  of  sherry,  Guy,"  she  said,  and 
wheeling  up  a  great  easy-chair,  she  told  me  to  sit  in 
it,  for  I  looked  dreadfully  tired.  I  took  the  chair, 
and  when  the  wine  was  brought  I  drank  it. 

"  Where  is  Miss  Nugent  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Miss  Nugent  is  all  right,"  said  Mary  Phillips, 
"  but  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  a  word  about  her  or 
anything  else  until  you've  had  some  breakfast.  I 
know  you  have  not  tasted  food  this  day." 

I  admitted  that  I  had  not.  I  would  eat,  I  would 
do  anything,  so  that  afterward  she  would  tell  me 
about  Bertha. 


DERELICT.  125 

When  I  had  a  cup  of  coffee  and  some  toast  which 
Mary  brought  to  me  upon  a  tray,  I  arose  from  my  chair. 

"Now  tell  me  quickly/'  I  said,  "  where  is  Bertha  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Mary  Phillips  —  I  call  her  so, 
for  I  shall  never  know  her  by  any  other  name. 

"  Sit  down  again,  Mr.  Eockwell,  and  eat  these  two 
eggs.  When  you  have  done  that  I  will  talk  to  you 
about  her.  You  needn't  be  in  a  hurry  to  go  to  see 
her,  because  in  the  house  where  she  is  the  people  are 
not  up  yet." 

"Might  as  well  sit  down  and  eat,"  said  the  captain, 
laughing.  "When  you're  under  command  of  this  skip 
per  you  will  find  that  her  orders  are  orders,  and  the 
quicker  you  step  up  and  obey  them,  the  better.  So  I 
would  advise  you  to  eat  your  eggs." 

I  began  to  do  so,  and  Captain  Guy  laughed  a  mighty 
laugh.  "  She's  a  little  thing,"  he  said,  "but  she  does 
know  how  to  make  men  stand  about.  I  didn't  believe 
there  was  a  person  in  this  world  who  could  have  kept 
my  hands  off  you  when  I  saw  you  hugging  my  wife. 
But  she  did  it,  and  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  was  never  worse 
cut  up  in  my  whole  life  than  I  was  when  I  saw  you 
do  that." 

"Sir,"  said  I,  looking  at  him  steadfastly,  "if  I  have 
caused  you  any  pain,  any  misery,  any  torment  of  the 
soul,  any  anguish  of  heart,  any  agony  of  jealousy,  or 
mental  torture  of  any  kind,  I  am  heartily  glad  of  it, 
for  all  of  these  things  you  have  brought  on  me." 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Mary  Phillips  ;  "  you  must  be  feel 
ing  better,  sir,  and  when  you  have  entirely  finished 
breakfast  we  will  go  on  and  talk." 


126  DERELICT. 

In  a  few  moments  I  pushed  away  the  tray,  and 
Mary,  looking  at  it,  declared  herself  satisfied,  and 
placed  it  on  a  side  table. 

"  So  you  really  supposed,  sir,"  she  said,  sitting  near 
.me,  "  that  Captain  Chesters  married  Miss  Nugent  ?  " 

"I  certainly  did,"  I  answered. 

"No  doubt,  thinking,"  said  Mary,  with  a  smile, 
"that  no  man  in  his  senses  would  marry  anybody 
else  when  Miss  Nugent  was  about,  which  was  a  very 
proper  opinion,  of  course,  considering  your  state  of 
mind." 

"  And  let  me  say,  sir,"  said  Captain  Guy,  "  if  I  had 
married  Miss  Nugent,  more  people  than  you  would 
have  been  dissatisfied.  I  would  have  been  one  of 
them,  and  I  am  sure  Miss  Nugent  would  have  been 
another." 

"Count  me  as  one  of  that  party,"  said  Mary 
Phillips.  "  And  now,  Mr.  Rockwell,  you  shall  not  be 
kept  waiting  a  moment  longer." 

"Of  course  she  is  safe  and  well,"  I  said,  "or  you 
you  would  not  be  here,  and  before  you  say  anything 
more  about  her,  please  tell  me  what  you  meant  by 
that  terrible  word  ( but.' " 

"But  ?  "  repeated  Mary  Phillips,  with  a  puzzled  ex 
pression.  And  Captain  Guy  echoed,  "  But  ?  What 
but?" 

"  It  was  the  last  word  I  heard  from  you,"  said  I ; 
"you  shouted  it  to  me  when  your  vessel  was  going 
away  for  the  last  time.  It  has  caused  me  a  world  of 
misery.  It  may  have  been  followed  by  other  words, 
but  I  did  not  catch  them.  I  asked  you  if  you  had 


DERELICT.  127 

told  her  that  I  loved  her,  and  you  answered,  'Yes, 
but  — '" 

Captain  Guy  slapped  his  leg,  "  By  George ! "  he 
said;  "that  was  enough  to  put  a  man  on  the  rack. 
Mary,  you  should  have  told  him  more  than  that." 

Mary  Phillips  wrinkled  her  forehead  and  gazed 
steadfastly  into  her  lap.  Suddenly  she  looked  up. 

"I  remember  it,"  she  said;  "I  remember  exactly 
what  I  answered  or  tried  to  answer.  I  said,  'Yes, 
but  she  knew  it  before.7 " 

I  sprang  to  my  feet.    "What  do  you  mean? "  I  cried. 

"Of  course  she  knew  it,"  she  cried:  "we  must  both 
have  been  very  stupid  if  we  hadn't  known  that.  We 
knew  it  before  we  left  New  York ;  and,  for  my  part, 
I  wondered  why  you  didn't  tell  her.  But  as  you 
never  mentioned  it,  of  course  it  wasn't  for  us  to  bring 
up  the  subject." 

"Bertha  knew  I  loved  her?"  I  ejaculated.  "And 
what — and  how  —  what  did  she  say  of  it?  What 
did  she  think  of  it  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Mary  Phillips,  laughing,  "I  could 
never  see  that  she  doubted  it ;  I  could  never  see 
that  she  objected  to  it.  In  fact,  from  what  she  said, 
and,  being  just  us  two,  of  course  she  had  to  say  a  good 
many  things  to  me,  I  think  she  was  very  glad  to  find 
out  that  you  knew  it  as  well  as  we  did." 

"Mary  Phillips!"  I  cried;  "where  is  she?  Tell 
me  this  moment ! " 

"Look  here,"  said  Captain  Guy,  "you're  leaving  me 
out  of  this  business  altogether.  This  is  Mrs.  Mary 
Chesters." 


128  DERELICT. 

"  Mr.  Rockwell  will  be  all  right  when  he  gets  over 
this  flurry,"  said  Mary  to  her  husband. 

I  acknowledged  the  correction  with  a  nod,  for  I  had 
no  time  then  for  words  on  the  subject. 

"Don't  get  yourself  flustered,  sir,"  said  Mary. 
"  You  can't  go  to  her  yet ;  it's  too  early.  You  must 
give  the  family  time  to  come  down  and  have  break 
fast.  I  am  not  going  to  be  party  to  a  scene  before 
breakfast  nor  in  the  middle  of  a  meal.  I  know  the 
ways  and  manners  of  that  house,  and  I'll  send  you  at 
exactly  the  right  time." 

I  sat  down.     "  Mary  —  Mrs.  —  " 

"Don't  bother  about  names  just  now,"  she  inter 
rupted  ;  "  I  know  who  you're  speaking  to." 

"  Do  you  believe,"  I  continued,  looking  steadfastly 
at  her,  "  that  Bertha  Nugent  loves  me  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "that  it's  exactly  my 
business  to  give  this  information,  but  under  the  cir 
cumstances  I  take  it  on  myself  to  say  that  she  most 
certainly  does.  And  I  tell  you,  and  you  may  tell  her 
if  you  like,  that  I  would  not  have  said  this  to  you  if 
I  hadn't  believed  this  thing  ought  to  be  clinched  the 
minute  there  was  a  chance  to  do  it.  It's  been  hang 
ing  off  and  on  long  enough.  Love  you  ?  Why,  bless 
my  soul,  sir,  she's  been  thinking  of  nothing  else  for 
the  past  two  or  three  days  but  the  coming  of  the  post 
man,  expecting  a  letter  from  you,  not  considering  that 
you  didn't  know  where  to  address  her,  or  that  it  was 
rather  scant  time  for  a  letter  to  come  from  La  Guayra, 
where  Captain  Stearns  would  take  you  if  he  succeeded 
in  picking  you  up." 


DERELICT.  129 

"  The  whole  affair  had  a  scanty  air  about  it,"  said 
Captain  Guy.  "  At  least,  that's  the  way  I  look  at  it." 

"  You've  never  said  anything  like  that  before,"  said 
Mary,  rather  sharply. 

"Of  course  not,"  replied  the  captain.  "I  wanted 
to  keep  you  as  merry  and  cheerful  as  I  could.  And 
besides,  I  didn't  say  I  had  thought  there  was  no 
chance  of  Mr.  Rockwell's  turning  up.  I  only  said  I 
considered  it  a  little  scantish." 

"  Love  you  ?  "  continued  Mary  Phillips ;  "  I  should 
say  so.  I  should  have  brought  her  on  deck  to  wave 
her  handkerchief  to  you  and  kiss  her  hand  —  perhaps, 
when  you  blew  the  state  of  your  feelings  through 
a  trumpet ;  but  she  wasn't  strong  enough.  She  was 
a  pretty  weak  woman  in  body  and  mind  about  that 
time.  But  from  the  moment  I  told  her,  and  she 
knew  that  you  not  only  loved  her,  but  were  willing 
to  say  so,  she  began  to  mend.  And  how  she  did  talk 
about  you,  and  how  she  did  long  that  the  two  ships 
might  come  together  again !  She  kept  asking  me  what 
I  thought  about  the  condition  of  your  vessel  and 
whether  it  would  be  like  to  sink  if  a  storm  came  on. 
I  could  not  help  thinking  that,  as  far  as  I  knew  any 
thing  about  ships,  you'd  be  likely  to  float  for  weeks 
after  we'd  gone  down,  but  I  didn't  say  that  to  her. 
And  then  she  began  to  wonder  if  you  had  understood 
that  she  had  received  your  message  and  was  glad  to 
get  it.  And  I  told  her  over  and  over  and  over  again 
that  you  must  have  heard  me,  for  I  screamed  my  very 
loudest.  I  am  very  glad  that  I  didn't  know  that  you 
only  caught  those  two  words." 


130  DERELICT. 

"Dear  girl !"  I  ejaculated.  "  And  did  she  send  me 
a  message  on  a  life-preserver  ?  " 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  you  got  it  ? "  cried  Mary 
Phillips. 

"No,"  said  I;  "it  floated  away  from  me.  What 
was  it  ?  " 

"  I  got  up  that  little  scheme/'  said  Mary  Phillips, 
"to  quiet  her.  I  told  her  that  a  letter  might  be 
floated  to  you  that  way,  and  that,  anyway,  it  would 
do  no  harm  to  try.  I  don't  know  what  she  wrote,  but 
she  must  have  said  a  good  deal,  for  she  took  a  long 
time  about  it.  I  wrapped  it  up  perfectly  water-tight. 
She  made  the  flag  herself  out  of  one  of  her  own  hand 
kerchiefs  with  her  initial  in  the  corner.  She  said  she 
thought  you  would  like  that." 

"  Oh,  that  it  had  come  to  me  ! "  I  cried. 

"  I  wish  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  that  it  had," 
said  Mary,  compassionately.  "  It  would  have  done 
you  a  lot  of  good  on  that  lonely  ship." 

"  Instead  of  which,"  observed  Captain  Guy,  "  some 
shark  probably  swallowed  it,  and  little  good  it  did 
him." 

"It  put  a  lot  of  affection  and  consideration  into 
him,"  said  Mary,  a  little  brusquely,  "and  there  are 
other  creatures  connected  with  the  sea  who  wouldn't 
be  hurt  by  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  There's  a  shot  into  me  ! "  cried  the  captain.  "  Don't 
do  it  again.  I  cry  quarter  ! " 

"  I  must  go,"  I  said,  rising ;  "  I  can  wait  no  longer." 

"  Well,"  said  Mary,  "  you  may  not  be  much  too  soon, 
if  you  go  slowly." 


DERELICT.  131 

"  But  before  I  go,"  I  said,  "  tell  me  this :  Why  did 
she  not  send  me  some  word  from  Lisbon  ?  Why  did 
she  not  give  Captain  Stearns  a  line  on  a  piece  of  paper 
or  some  message  ?  " 

"  A  line  !  a  message  ! "  exclaimed  Mary.  "  She  sent 
you  a  note ;  she  sent  you  a  dozen  messages  by  Captain 
Stearns." 

"And  I'll  wager  a  month's  pay/'  said  Captain  Guy^ 
"  that  he  never  delivered  one  of  them." 

"  He  gave  me  no  note,"  I  cried. 

"It's  in  the  pocket  of  his  pea-jacket  now,"  said 
Captain  Chesters. 

"He  did  deliver  some  messages,"  I  said,  "after  I 
questioned  him ;  but  they  were  such  as  these :  Keep 
up  a  good  heart ;  everything's  bound  to  be  right  in 
the  end;  the  last  to  get  back  gets  the  heartiest  wel 
come.  Now,  anybody  could  have  sent  such  words  as 
those." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  cried  Mary  Phillips,  "  those  were 
the  messages  I  sent.  I  remember  particularly  the  one 
about  the  last  one  back  and  the  heartiest  welcome." 

"  Confound  that  Stearns ! "  cried  Captain  Guy ; 
"what  did  he  mean  by  giving  all  his  attention  to  you, 
and  none  to  the  lady  that  he  was  sent  for  to  see  ?  " 

"  Good  bye,  Mrs.  Chesters,"  I  said,  taking  her  by  the 
hand.  "  I  can  never  thank  you  enough  for  what  you 
have  done  for  her  and  for  me.  But  how  you  could 
leave  her  I  really  do  not  understand." 

"  Well,"  said  Mary,  coloring  a  little,  "  I  can  scarcely 
understand  it  myself ;  but  that  man  would  have  it  so, 
and  he's  terribly  obstinate.  But  I  don't  feel  that  I've 


132  DERELICT. 

left  her.  She's  in  the  best  of  hands,  and  I  see  her 
nearly  every  day.  Here's  her  address,  and  when  you. 
meet  her,  Mr.  Eockwell,  you'll  find  that  in  every  way 
I've  told  you  truly." 

I  took  a  hearty  leave  of  Captain  Guy,  shook  Mary 
by  the  hand  once  more,  rushed  down  stairs,  roused  the 
sleeping  cabby,  and  glancing  at  the  card,  ordered  him 
to  gallop  to  9  Eavisdock  Terrace,  Parmley  Square. 

I  do  not  know  how  I  got  into  the  house,  what  I  said 
nor  what  I  asked,  nor  whether  the  family  had  had 
their  breakfast  or  not ;  but  the  moment  my  eyes  fell 
upon  my  beloved  Bertha  I  knew  that  in  everything 
Mary  Phillips  had  told  me  truly.  She  came  into  the 
room  with  beaming  eyes  and  both  hands  extended. 
With  outstretched  arms  I  rushed  to  meet  her,  and 
folded  her  to  my  breast.  This  time  there  was  no  one 
to  object.  For  some  moments  we  were  speechless 
with  joyful  emotion,  but  there  was  no  need  of  our 
saying  anything,  no  need  of  statements  nor  explana 
tions.  Mary  Phillips  had  attended  to  all  that. 

When  we  had  cooled  down  to  the  point  of  speech,  I 
was  surprised  to  find  that  I  had  been  expected,  that 
Bertha  knew  I  was  coming.  When  Mary  Phillips  had 
left  me  that  morning  to  prepare  my  breakfast,  she  had 
sent  a  message  to  Bertha,  and  then  she  had  detained 
me  until  she  thought  it  had  been  received  and  Bertha 
was  prepared  to  meet  me. 

"  I  did  not  want  any  slips  or  misses,"  she  said,  when 
she  explained  the  matter  to  me  afterward.  "  I  don't 
want  to  say  anything  about  your  personal  appearance, 
Mr.  Eockwell,  but  there  are  plenty  of  servants  in 


DERELICT.  133 

London  who,  if  they  hadn't  had  their  orders,  would 
shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  a  much  less  wild-eyed 
person  than  you  were,  sir,  that  morning." 

Bertha  and  I  were  married  in  London,  and  two 
weeks  afterward  we  returned  to  America  in  the  new 
ship  Glaucus,  commanded  by  Captain  Guy  Chesters 
and  his  wife. 

Our  marriage  in  England  instead  of  America  was 
largely  due  to  the  influence  of  Mary  Phillips,  who 
thought  it  would  be  much  safer  and  more  prudent  for 
us  to  be  married  before  we  again  undertook  the  risks 
of  a  sea- voyage. 

"Nobody  knows  what  may  happen  on  the  ocean," 
she  said ;  "  but  if  you're  once  fairly  married,  that  much 
is  accomplished,  anyway." 

Our  choice  of  a  sailing-vessel  in  which  to  make  the 
passage  was  due  in  a  great  part  to  our  desire  to  keep 
company  as  long  as  possible  with  Captain  Chesters 
and  his  wife,  to  whom  we  truly  believed  we  owed  each 
other. 

When  we  reached  New  York,  and  Bertha  and  I  were 
about  to  start  for  the  Catskill  Mountains,  where  we 
proposed  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  summer,  we  took 
leave  of  Captain  Guy  and  his  wife  with  warmest  ex 
pressions  of  friendship,  with  plans  for  meeting  again. 

Everything  seemed  to  have  turned  out  in  the  best 
possible  way. 

We  had  each  other,  and  Mary  Phillips  had  some 
one  to  manage. 

We  should  have  been  grieved  if  we  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  her  without  occupation. 


134  DERELICT. 

At  the  moment  of  parting  I  drew  her  aside.  "  Mary/' 
I  said,  "we  have  had  some  strange  experiences  to 
gether,  and  I  shall  never  forget  them." 

"Nor  shall  I,  sir/7  she  answered.  "Some  of  them 
were  so  harrowing  and  close-shaved,  and  such  heart 
breaking  disappointments  I  never  had.  The  worst  of 
all  was  when  you  threw  that  rope  clean  over  our  ship 
without  holding  on  to  your  end  of  it.  I  had  been 
dead  sure  that,  the  rope  was  going  to  bring  us  all 
together." 

"  That  was  a  terrible  mishap/'  I  answered ;  "  what 
did  Bertha  think  of  it?" 

"Bless  my  soul!"  ejaculated  Mary  Phillips ;  "she 
wasn't  on  deck,  and  she  never  knew  anything  about  it. 
When  I  am  nursing  up  a  love  match  I  don't  mention 
that  sort  of  thing." 


THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY. 

A   CHRISTMAS    STORY. 

IT  was  three  day  s%  before  Christmas,  and  the  baker 
of  the  little  village  of  Barnbury  sat  in  the  room 
behind  his  shop.  He  was  a  short  and  sturdy  baker,  a 
good  fellow,  and  ordinarily  of  a  jolly  demeanor,  but 
this  day  he  sat  grim  in  his  little  back  room. 

"  Christmas,  indeed,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and  what 
of  Christmas  ?  '  Thank  you,  baker,  and  a  merry 
Christmas  to  you/  and  every  one  of  them  goes  away 
with  the  present  of  a  raisin-cake,  or  a  horse  ginger- 
cake,  if  they  like  that  better.  All  this  for  the  good 
of  the  trade,  of  course.  Confound  the  trade,  I'm  tired 
of  trade.  Is  there  no  good  in  this  world,  but  the 
good  of  the  trade  ?  '  Oh,  yes/  they'll  say,  '  there's 
Christmas,  and  that's  good.'  — '  But  what  is  the  good 
of  it  to  me  ? '  say  I.  Christmas  day  is  a  family  day, 
and  to  a  man  without  a  family  it's  no  day  at  all.  I'm 
not  even  fourth  cousin  to  a  soul  in  the  town.  Nobody 
asks  me  to  a  family  dinner.  '  Bake !  baker ! '  they  cry, 
'that  we  may  eat  and  love  each  other.'  Confound 
them !  I  am  tired  of  it.  What  is  Christmas  to  me  ? 
I  have  a  mind  to  skip  it." 

As  he  said  this,  a  smile  broke  out  on  his  face. 

135 


136        THE  BAKER  OF  BARN  BURY. 

"Skip  Christinas,"  said  he;  "that  is  a  good  idea. 
They  did  not  think  of  me  last  year ;  this  would  make 
them  think  of  me  this  year." 

As  he  said  this  he  opened  his  order-book  and  ran 
his  eye  over  the  names.  "  Here's  orders  from  every 
one  of  them,"  said  he,  "  from  the  doctor  down  to 
Cobbler  John.  All  have  families,  all  give  orders. 
It's  pastry,  cake,  or  sweetmeats,  or  it's  meat  or  fowl 
to  be  baked.  What  a  jolly  Christmas  they  will  have 
without  me  !  Orders  from  all  of  them,  every  one ;  all 
sent  in  good  time  for  fear  of  being  crowded  out." 

Here  he  stopped  and  ran  his  eye  again  over  the  list. 

"  No,  not  all,"  he  said ;  "  the  Widow  Monk  is  not 
here.  What  is  the  matter  with  her,  I  wonder.  The 
only  person  in  Barnbury  who  has  not  ordered  either 
pastry,  cakes,  or  sweetmeats ;  or  fowls  or  meat  to  be 
baked.  If  I  skip  Christmas,  she'll  not  mind  it,  she'll 
be  the  only  one  —  the  only  one  in  all  Barnbury.  Ha ! 
ha!" 

The  baker  wanted  some  fresh  air,  and,  as  this  was 
supper-time  for  the  whole  village,  he  locked  up  his 
shop  and  went  out  for  a  walk.  The  night  was  clear 
and  frosty.  He  liked  this;  the  air  was  so  different 
from  that  in  his  bakery. 

He  walked  to  the  end  of  the  village,  and  at  the  last 
house  he  stopped. 

"It's  very  odd,"  said  he  to  himself;  "no  cakes, 
pastry,  or  sweetmeats ;  not  even  poultry  or  meat  to 
be  baked.  I'll  look  in  and  see  about  this,"  and  he 
knocked  at  the  door. 

The  Widow  Monk  was  at  supper.    She  was  a  plump 


THE  BAKER   OF  BARNBURY.  137 

little  body,  bright  and  cheerful  to  look  upon,  and  not 
more  than  thirty. 

"  Good  evening,  baker,"  said  she ;  "  will  you  sit  down 
and  have  a  cup  of  tea  ?  " 

The  baker  put  down  his  hat,  unwound  his  long 
woollen  comforter,  took  off  his  overcoat,  and  had  a 
cup  of  tea. 

"Now,  then,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  put  down 
his  cup,  "if  she'd  ask  me  to  dinner,  I  wouldn't  skip 
Christmas,  and  the  whole  village  might  rise  up  and 
bless  her." 

"  We  are  like  to  have  a  fine  Christmas,"  he  said 
to  her. 

"  Fine  enough  for  the  rest  of  you,"  she  said,  with  a 
smile,  "but  I  shall  not  have  any  Christmas  this  year." 

"  How's  that  ?  "  cried  the  baker ;  "  no  Christmas, 
Widow  Monk  ?  " 

"Not  this  year,  baker/'9  said  she,  and  she  poured 
him  another  cup  of  tea.  "You  see  that  horse- 
blanket  ? "  said  she,  pointing  to  one  thrown  over  a 
chair. 

"Bless  me,  Widow  Monk,"  cried  the  baker,  "you're 
not  intending  to  set  up  a  horse  ?  " 

"Hardly  that,"  she  answered,  with  a  smile,  "but 
that's  the  very  last  horse-blanket  that  I  can  get  to 
bind.  They  don't  put  them  on  horses,  but  they  have 
them  bound  with  red,  and  use  them  for  door  curtains. 
That's  all  the  fashion  now,  and  all  the  Barnbury  folks 
who  can  afford  them,  have  sent  them  to  me  to  be 
bound  with  red.  That  one  is  nearly  finished,  and 
there  are  no  more  to  be  bound." 


138  THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY. 

"But  haven't  the  Barnbury  folks  any  more  work 
for  you?"  cried  the  baker;  "haven't  they  shirts  or 
gowns,  or  seine  other  sort  of  needling  ?  " 

"Those  things  they  make  themselves/'  answered 
the  widow ;  "  but  this  binding  is  heavy  work,  and  they 
give  it  to  me.  The  blankets  are  coarse,  you  see,  but 
they  hang  well  in  the  doorway." 

"  Confound  the  people  of  Barnbury ! "  cried  the 
baker.  "Every  one  of  them  would  hang  well  in  a 
doorway,  if  I  had  the  doing  of  it.  And  so  you  can't 
afford  a  Christinas,  Widow  Monk  ?  " 

"No,"  said  she,  setting  herself  to  work  on  her 
horse-blanket,  "  not  this  year.  When  I  came  to  Barn- 
bury,  baker,  I  thought  I  might  do  well,  but  I  have 
not  done  well." 

"Did  not  your  husband  leave  you  anything?"  he 
asked. 

"  My  husband  was  a  sailor,"  said  she,  "  and  he  went 
down  with  his  brig,  the  Mistletoe,  three  years  ago,  and 
all  that  he  left  me  is  gone,  baker." 

It  was  time  for  the  baker  to  open  his  shop,  and  he 
went  away,  and  as  he  walked  home  snow-drops  and 
tear-drops  were  all  mixed  together  on  his  face. 

"I  couldn't  do  this  sort  of  thing  before  her,"  he 
said,  "  and  I  am  glad  it  was  time  to  go  and  open  my 
shop." 

That  night  the  baker  did  all  his  regular  work,  but 
not  a  finger  did  he  put  to  any  Christmas  order.  The 
next  day,  at  supper-time,  he  went  out  for  a  walk. 

On  the  way  he  said  to  himself,  "  If  she  is  going  to 
skip  Christinas,  and  I  am  going  to  skip  Christmas, 


THE  BAKER  OF  BARN  BURY.  139 

why  should  we  not  skip  it  together?  That  would 
truly  be  most  fit  and  gladsome,  and  it  would  serve 
Barnbury  aright.  I'll  go  in  and  lay  it  before 
her." 

The  Widow  Monk  was  at  supper,  and  when  she 
asked  him  to  take  a  cup  of  tea,  he  put  down  his  hat, 
unwound  his  woollen  comforter,  and  took  off  his  over 
coat.  When  he  set  down  his  empty  cup  he  told  her 
that  he,  too,  had  made  up  his  mind  to  skip  Christmas, 
and  he  told  her  why,  and  then  he  proposed  that  they 
should  skip  it  together. 

Now,  the  Widow  Monk  forgot  to  ask  him  to  take  a 
second  cup  of  tea,  and  she  turned  as  red  as  the  bind 
ing  she  had  put  on  the  horse-blankets.  The  baker 
pushed  aside  the  teacups,  leaned  over  the  table,  and 
pressed  his  suit  very  hard. 

When  the  time  came  for  him  to  open  his  shop  she 
said  that  she  would  think  about  the  matter,  and  that 
he  .might  come  again. 

The  next  day  the  sun  shone  golden,  the  snow  shone 
silvery,  and  Barnbury  was  like  a  paradise  to  the  good 
baker.  For  the  Widow  Monk  had  told  him  he  might 
come  again,  and  that  was  almost  the  same  thing  as 
telling  him  that  he  and  she  would  skip  Christmas 
together !  And  not  a  finger,  so  far,  had  he  put  to  any 
Christmas  order. 

About  noon  of  that  day,  he  was  so  happy,  was  that 
good  baker,  that  he  went  into  the  village  inn  to  have 
a  taste  of  something  hot.  In  the  inn  he  found  a  tall 
man,  with  rings  in  his  ears.  A  sun-browned  man  he 
was  and  a  stranger,  who  had  just  arrived  and  wanted 


140  THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY. 

his  dinner.  He  was  also  a  handsome  man,  and  a 
sailor,  as  any  one  could  see. 

As  the  baker  entered,  the  tail  man  said  to  the  inn 
keeper  :  — 

"  Is  there  a  Mrs.  Monk  now  living  in  this  village  ?  " 

"  Truly  there  is,"  said  the  inn-keeper,  "  and  I  will 
show  you  her  house.  But  you'll  have  your  dinner 
first?" 

"Aye,  aye,"  said  the  stranger,  "for  I'll  not  go  to 
her  hungry." 

The  baker  asked  for  nothing  hot,  but  turned  him 
and  went  out  into  the  cold,  bleak  world.  As  he  closed 
the  door  behind  him  he  heard  the  stranger  say :  — 

"  On  the  brig  Mistletoe." 

It  was  not  needed  that  the  baker  should  hear  these 
words;  already  he  knew  everything.  His  soul  had 
told  him  everything  in  the  moment  he  saw  the  sun- 
browned  man  with  the  rings  in  his  ears ! 

On  went  the  baker,  his  head  bowed  on  his  breast, 
the  sun  shining  like  tawdry  brass,  the  snow  glistening 
like  a  slimy,  evil  thing.  He  knew  not  where  he  was 
going ;  he  knew  not  what  he  intended  to  do,  but  on 
he  went. 

Presently  a  door  opened,  and  he  was  called. 

"I  saw  you  coming,"  said  the  Widow  Monk,  "and 
I  did  not  wish  to  keep  you  waiting  in  the  cold,"  and 
she  held  open  the  door  for  him. 

When  he  had  entered,  and  had  seated  himself  be 
fore  the  fire,  she  said  to  him  :  — 

"  Truly,  you  look  chilled  ;  you  need  something  hot " ; 
and  she  prepared  it  for  him. 


THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY.  141 

The  baker  took  the  hot  beverage.  This  much  of 
good  he  might  at  least  allow  himself.  He  drank  it, 
and  he  felt  warmed. 

"And  now,"  said  the  Widow  Monk,  seating  her 
self  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire-place,  "  I  shall  speak 
as  plainly  to  you  as  you  spoke  to  me.  You  spoke 
very  well  yesterday,  and  I  have  been  thinking  about 
it  ever  since,  and  have  made  up  my  mind.  You  are 
alone  in  the  world,  and  I  am  alone ;  and  if  you  don't 
wish  to  be  alone  any  longer,  why,  I  don't  wish  to  be 
either,  and  so  —  perhaps  —  it  will  not  be  necessary 
to  skip  Christmas  this  year." 

Alas  for  the  poor  baker !  Here  was  paradise  seen 
through  a  barred  gate  !  But  the  baker's  heart  was 
moved ;  even  in  the  midst  of  his  misery  he  could  not 
but  be  grateful  for  the  widow's  words.  There  flashed 
into  his  eyes  a  sudden  brightness.  He  held  out  his 
hands.  He  would  thank  her  first,  and  tell  her  after 
wards. 

The  widow  took  his  hands,  lowered  her  bright  eyes 
and  blushed.  Then  she  suddenly  withdrew  herself 
and  stood  up. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  with  a  pretty  smile,  "  let  me  do 
the  talking.  Don't  look  so  downcast.  When  I  tell 
you  that  you  have  made  me  very,  very  happy,  you 
should  look  happy  too.  When  you  came  to  me  yester 
day,  and  said  what  you  said,  I  thought  you  were  in 
too  much  of  a  hurry ;  but  now  I  think  that  perhaps 
you  were  right,  and  that  when  people  of  our  age  have 
anything  important  to  do  it  is  well  to  do  it  at  once ; 
for  in  this  world  there  are  all  sorts  of  things  con- 


142  THE  BAKER   OF  BARNBUR?. 

tinually  springing  up  to  prevent  people  from  being 
happy." 

The  whole  body  of  the  baker  was  filled  with  a  great 
groan,  but  he  denied  it  utterance.  He  must  hear 
what  she  would  say. 

"And  so  I  was  going  to  suggest/'  she  continued, 
"  that  instead  of  skipping  Christmas  together,  we 
keep  it  together.  That  is  all  the  change  I  propose  to 
your  plan." 

Up  sprang  the  baker,  so  suddenly,  that  he  overset 
his  chair.  Now  he  must  speak.  The  widow  stepped 
quickly  toward  the  door,  and,  turning  with  a  smile, 
held  up  her  hand. 

"  Now,  good  friend,"  said  she,  "  stop  there !  At 
any  moment  some  one  might  come  in.  Hasten  back 
to  your  shop.  At  three  o'clock  I  will  meet  you  at  the 
parson's.  That  will  surely  be  soon  enough,  even  for 
such  a  hasty  man  as  you." 

The  baker  came  forward,  and  gasped,  "Your  hus 
band  ! " 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  widow,  with  a  laugh,  and,  kiss 
ing  the  tips  of  her  fingers  to  him,  she  closed  the  door 
behind  her. 

Out  into  the  cold  went  the  baker.  His  head  was 
dazed,  but  he  walked  steadfastly  to  his  shop.  There 
was  no  need  for  him  to  go  anywhere ;  to  tell  anybody 
anything.  The  man  with  the  earrings  would  settle 
matters  for  himself  soon  enough. 

The  baker  put  up  his  shutters  and  locked  his  shop 
door.  He  would  do  nothing  more  for  the  good  of 
trade ;  nothing  more  for  the  good  of  anything.  Skip 


THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY.  143 

Christinas  !  Indeed  would  he  !  And,  moreover,  every 
holiday  and  every  happy  day  would  now  be  skipped 
straight  on  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  He  put  his  house 
in  order ;  he  arranged  his  affairs ;  he  attired  himself 
in  his  best  apparel ;  locked  his  door  behind  him  ;  and 
went  out  into  the  cold  world. 

He  longed  now  to  get  far  away  from  the  village. 
Before  the  sun  set  there  would  not  be  one  soul  there 
who  would  care  for  him. 

As  he  hurried  on,  he  saw  before  him  the  parson's 
house. 

"  I  will  take  but  one  thing  away  with  me,"  he  said ; 
"  I  will  ask  the  good  old  man  to  give  me  his  blessing. 
That  will  I  take  with  me." 

"  Of  course  he  is  in,"  said  the  parson's  maid ; 
"  there,  in  the  parlor." 

As  the  baker  entered  the  parson's  parlor,  some  one 
hastened  to  meet  him.  It  was  the  Widow  Monk. 

"You  wicked  man,"  she  whispered,  "you  are  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  late.  The  parson  is  waiting." 

The  parson  was  a  little  man  with  white  hair.  He 
stepped  toward  the  couple  standing  together,  and  the 
widow  took  the  baker's  hand.  Then  the  parson  be 
gan  the  little  speech  he  always  made  on  such  occa 
sions.  It  was  full  of  good  sense  and  very  touching, 
and  the  widow's  eyes  were  dim  with  tears.  The  baker 
would  have  spoken,  but  he  had  never  interrupted  a 
clergyman,  and  he  could  not  do  it  now. 

Then  the  parson  began  his  appointed  work,  and  the 
heart  of  the  baker  swelled,  as  the  widow's  hand 
trembled  in  his  own. 


144  THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY. 

"Wilt  thou  have  this  woman  to  be  thy  wedded 
wife  ?  "  asked  the  parson. 

"Now  for  this/7  quoth  the  poor  baker  to  himself, 
"  I  may  bake  forever,  but  I  cannot  draw  back  nor 
keep  the  good  man  waiting."  And  he  said,  "  Yes." 

Then  it  was  that  the  baker  received  what  he  had 
come  for,  —  the  parson's  blessing ;  and,  immediately, 
his  fair  companion,  brimming  with  tears,  threw  her 
self  into  his  arms. 

"  Now,"  said  the  baker  to  himself,  "  when  I  leave 
this  house,  may  the  devil  take  me,  and  right  welcome 
shall  he  be ! " 

"Dearest,"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  looked  into  his 
face,  "  you  cannot  know  how  happy  I  am.  My  wed 
ding  day,  and  my  brother  back  from  the  cruel  seas  ! " 

Struck  by  a  sudden  blast  of  bewildering  ecstasy, 
the  baker  raised  his  eyes,  and  beheld  the  tall  form  of 
the  sun-browned  stranger  who  had  been  standing 
behind  them. 

"You  are  not  a  sailor-man,"  quoth  the  jovial  brother, 
"  like  my  old  mate,  who  went  down  in  the  brig  Mistle 
toe,  but  my  sister  tells  me  you  are  a  jolly  good  fellow, 
and  I  wish  you  fair  winds  and  paying  cargoes."  And 
after  giving  the  baker  a  powerful  handshake,  the 
sailor  kissed  the  bride,  the  parson's  wife,  the  parson's 
daughter,  and  the  parson's  maid,  and  wished  the 
family  were  larger,  having  just  returned  from  the 
cruel  seas. 

The  only  people  in  the  village  of  Barnbury,  who 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the  Christmas  of  that  year,  were 
the  baker,  his  wife,  and  the  sailor  brother  And  a 


THE  BAKER  OF  BARNBURY.  145 

rare  good  time  they  had;  for  a  big  sea-chest  arrived, 
and  there  were  curious  presents,  and  a  tall  flask  of 
rare  old  wine,  and  plenty  of  time  for  three  merry  peo 
ple  to  cook  for  themselves. 

The  baker  told  his  wife  of  his  soul-harrowing  plight 
of  the  day  before. 

"Now,  then/'  said  he,  "don't  you  think  that  by 
rights  I  should  bake  all  the  same  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  skipped/'  she  said,  with  a  laugh ; 
"  and  now  go  you  and  make  ready  for  the  cakes,  pas 
try,  and  sweetmeats,  the  baked  meats  and  the  poultry, 
with  which  the  people  of  Barnbury  are  to  be  made 
right  happy  on  New  Year's  day." 


THE  WATEE-DEVIL. 

A   MARINE   TALE. 

the  village  of  Kiprock  there  was  neither  tavern 
J-  nor  inn,  for  it  was  but  a  small  place  through  which 
few  travellers  passed ;  but  it  could  not  be  said  to  be 
without  a  place  of  entertainment,  for  if  by  chance  a 
stranger  —  or  two  or  three  of  them,  for  that  matter  — 
wished  to  stop  at  Riprock  for  a  meal,  or  to  pass  the 
night,  there  was  the  house  of  blacksmith  Fryker, 
which  was  understood  to  be  always  open  to  decent 
travellers. 

The  blacksmith  was  a  prominent  man  in  the  village, 
and  his  house  was  a  large  one,  with  several  spare  bed 
rooms,  arid  it  was  said  by  those  who  had  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  judging,  that  nobody  in  the  village  lived 
better  than  blacksmith  Fryker  and  his  family. 

Into  the  village  there  came,  late  one  autumn  after 
noon,  a  tall  man,  who  was  travelling  on  foot,  with  a 
small  valise  hanging  from  his  shoulder.  He  had  in 
quired  for  lodging  for  the  night,  had  been  directed  to 
the  blacksmith's  house,  had  arranged  to  stop  there, 
had  had  his  supper,  which  greatly  satisfied  him,  and 
was  now  sitting  before  the  fire  in  the  large  living- 
room,  smoking  blacksmith  Fryker's  biggest  pipe. 
146 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  147 

This  stranger  was  a  red-haired  man,  with  a  cheery 
expression,  and  a  pair  of  quick,  bright  eyes.  He  was 
slenderly  but  strongly  built,  and  was  a  good  fellow, 
who  would  stand  by,  with  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of 
his  short  pea-jacket,  and  right  willingly  tell  one  who 
was  doing  something  how  the  thing  ought  to  be  done. 
But  the  traveller  did  not  sit  alone  before  the  crack 
ling  fire  of  logs,  for  the  night  being  cool,  a  table  was 
drawn  near  to  one  side  of  the  fire-place,  and  by  this 
sat  Mistress  Fryker  and  her  daughter  Joanna,  both 
engaged  in  some  sort  of  needle-work.  The  blacksmith 
sat  between  the  corner  of  the  fire-place  and  this  table, 
so  that  when  he  had  finished  smoking  his  after-supper 
pipe,  he  might  put  on  his  spectacles  and*  read  the 
weekly  paper  by  the  light  of  the  big  lamp.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  stranger,  whose  chair  was  in  front  of 
the  middle  of  the  fire-place,  sat  the  school-master, 
Andrew  Cardly  by  name ;  a  middle-aged  man  of  sober 
and  attentive  aspect,  and  very  glad  when  chance 
threw  in  his  way  a  book  he  had  not  read,  or  a  stranger 
who  could  reinforce  his  stock  of  information.  At  the 
other  corner  of  the  fire-place,  in  a  cushioned  chair, 
which  was  -always  given  to  him  when  he  dropped  in 
to  spend  an  evening  with  the  blacksmith,  sat  Mr.  Har- 
berry,  an  elderly  man,  a  man  of  substance,  and  a  man 
in  whom  all  Riprock,  not  excluding  himself,  placed 
unqualified  confidence  as  to  his  veracity,  his  financial 
soundness,  and  his  deep  insight  into  the  causes,  the 
influences,  and  the  final  issue  of  events  and  conditions. 
"  On  a  night  like  this,"  said  the  stranger,  stretching 
his  long  legs  toward  the  blaze,  "there  is  nothing  I 


148  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

like  better  than  a  fire  of  wood,  except  indeed  it  be 
the  society  of  ladies  who  do  not  object  to  a  little 
tobacco  smoke/'  and  he  glanced  with  a  smile  toward 
the  table  with  a  lamp  upon  it. 

Now  blacksmith  Fryker  was  a  prudent  man,  and  he 
did  not  consider  that  the  privileges  of  his  hearthstone 
—  always  freely  granted  to  a  decent  stranger  —  in 
cluded  an  acquaintance  with  his  pretty  daughter ;  and 
so,  without  allowing  his  women-folk  a  chance  to  enter 
into  the  conversation,  he  offered  the  stranger  a  differ 
ent  subject  to  hammer  upon. 

"  In  the  lower  country,"  said  he,  "  they  don't  need 
fires  as  early  in  the  season  as  we  do.  What  calling 
do  you  follow,  sir  ?  Some  kind  of  trade,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  traveller,  "  I  follow  no  trade ;  I  fol 
low  the  sea." 

At  this  the  three  men  looked  at  him,  as  also  the 
two  women.  His  appearance  no  more  suggested  that 
he  was  a  seaman  than  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Har- 
berry  suggested  that  he  was  what  the  village  of  Rip- 
rock  believed  him  to  be. 

"  I  should  not  have  taken  you  for  a  sailor,"  said  the 
blacksmith. 

"  I  am  not  a  sailor,"  said  the  other ;  "  I  am  a  soldier ; 
a  sea-soldier  —  in  fact,  a  marine." 

"I  should  say,  sir,"  remarked  the  school-master,  in 
a  manner  intended  rather  to  draw  out  information 
than  to  give  it,  "that  the  position  of  a  soldier  on  a 
ship  possessed  advantages  over  that  of  a  soldier  on 
land.  The  former  is  not  required  to  make  long 
marches,  nor  to  carry  heavy  baggage.  He  remains 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  149 


at  rest,  in  fact,  while  traversing  great  distances. 

is  he  called  on  to  resist  the  charges  of  cavalry,  nor  to 

form  hollow  squares  on  the  deadly  battle-field." 

The  stranger  smiled.  "We  often  find  it  hard 
enough,"  said  he,  "  to  resist  the  charges  made  against 
us  by  our  officers  ;  the  hollow  squares  form  them 
selves  in  our  stomachs  when  we  are  on  short  rations  ; 
and  I  have  known  many  a  man  who  would  rather 
walk  twenty  miles  than  sail  one,  especially  when  the 
sea  chops." 

"I  am  very  sure,  sir,"  said  school-master  Cardly, 
"  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  against  the  endur 
ance  and  the  courage  of  marines.  We  all  remember 
how  they  presented  arms,  and  went  down  with  the 
Royal  George" 

The  marine  smiled. 

"I  suppose,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "that  you  never 
had  to  do  anything  of  that  sort  ?  " 

The  stranger  did  not  immediately  answer,  but  sat 
looking  into  the  fire.  Presently  he  said:  "I  have 
done  things  of  nearly  every  sort,  although  not  exactly 
that  ;  but  I  have  thought  my  ship  was  going  down 
with  all  on  board,  and  that's  the  next  worst  thing  to 
going  down,  you  know." 

"  And  how  was  that  ?  "  inquired  Fryker. 

"Well,"  said  the  other,  "it  happened  more  times 
than  I  can  tell  you  of,  or  even  remember.  Yes,"  said 
he,  meditatively,  "more  times  than  I  can  remember." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  the  school-master,  "  that  we  should 
all  like  to  hear  some  of  your  experiences." 

The    marine    shrugged    his    shoulders.       "These 


150  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

things/7  said  he,  "  coine  to  a  man,  and  then  if  he  lives 
through  them,  they  pass  on,  and  he  is  ready  for  the 
next  streak  of  luck,  good  or  bad.  That's  the  way 
with  us  followers  of  the  sea,  especially  if  we  happen 
to  be  marines,  and  have  to  bear,  so  to  speak,  the 
responsibility  of  two  professions.  But  sometimes  a 
mischance  or  a  disaster  does  fix  itself  upon  a  man's 
mind  so  that  he  can  tell  about  it  if  he  is  called  upon ; 
and  just  now  there  comes  to  my  mind  a  very  odd  thing 
which  once  happened  to  me,  and  I  can  give  you  the 
points  of  that,  if  you  like." 

The  three  men  assured  him  that  they  would  very 
much  like  it,  and  the  two  women  looked  as  if  they 
were  of  the  same  opinion. 

Before  he  began  the  marine  glanced  about  him,  with 
a  certain  good-natured  wistfulness  which  might  have 
indicated,  to  those  who  understood  the  countenances 
of  the  sea-going  classes,  a  desire  to  wet  his  whistle ; 
but  if  this  expression  were  so  intended  it  was  thrown 
away,  for  blacksmith  Fryker  took  no  spirits  himself, 
nor  furnished  them  to  anybody  else.  Giving  up  all 
hope  in  this  direction,  the  marine  took  a  long  pull  at 
his  pipe  and  began. 

"It  was  in  the  winter  of  1878  that  I  was  on  the 
Bay  of  Bengal,  on  my  way  to  Calcutta,  and  about  five 
hundred  miles  distant  from  that  city.  I  was  not  on 
my  own  ship,  but  was  returning  from  a  leave  of  ab 
sence  on  an  American  steamer  from  San  Francisco  to 
Calcutta,  where  my  vessel,  the  United  States  frigate 
ApacJiCj  was  then  lying.  My  leave  of  absence  would 
expire  in  three  days ;  but  although  the  General  Brooks. 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  151 

the  vessel  I  was  aboard  of,  was  more  of  a  freight  than 
a  passenger  vessel,  and  was  heavily  laden,  we  would 
have  been  in  port  in  good  time  if,  two  days  before, 
something  had  not  happened  to  the  machinery.  I  am 
not  a  machinist  myself,  and  don't  know  exactly  what 
it  was  that  was  out  of  order,  but  the  engine  stopped, 
and  we  had  to  proceed  under  sail.  That  sounds  like 
a  slow  business;  but  the  Brooks  was  a  clipper-built 
vessel  with  three  masts  and  a  lot  of  sails  —  square 
sails,  fore-and-aft  sails,  jib  sails,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  I  am  not  a  regular  sailor  myself,  and  don't 
know  the  names  of  all  the  sails ;  but  whatever  sails 
she  could  have  she  did  have,  and  although  she  was  an 
iron  vessel,  and  heavily  freighted,  she  was  a  good 
sailer.  We  had  a  strong,  steady  wind  from  the  south, 
and  the  captain  told  me  that  at  the  rate  we  were  going 
he  didn't  doubt  that  he  would  get  me  aboard  my  ves 
sel  before  my  leave  ran  out,  or  at  least  so  soon  after 
ward  that  it  wouldn't  make  any  difference. 

"Well,  as  I  said,  the  wind  blew  strong  and  steady 
behind  us,  the  sails  were  full,  and  the  spray  dashed 
up  at  our  bow  in  a  way  calculated  to  tickle  the  soul  of 
any  one  anxious  to  get  to  the  end  of  his  voyage  5  and  I 
was  one  of  that  sort,  I  can  tell  you. 

"In  the  .afternoon  of  the  second  day  after  our 
engine  stopped,  I  was  standing  at  the  bow,  and  look 
ing  over,  when  suddenly  I  noticed  that  there  wasn't 
any  spray  dashing  up  in  front  of  the  vessel.  I 
thought  we  must  have  struck  a  sudden  calm,  but, 
glancing  up,  I  saw  the  sails  were  full,  and  the  wind 
blew  fair  in  my  face  as  I  turned  toward  the  stern.  I 


152  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

walked  aft  to  the  skipper,  and  touching  my  cap,  1 
said,  '  Captain,  how  is  it  that  when  a  ship  is  dashing 
along  at  this  rate  she  doesn't  throw  up  any  spray  with 
her  cutwater  ?  '  He  grinned  a  little,  and  said,  '  But 
she  does,  you  know/  <If  you  will  come  forward/ 
said  I,  '  I'll  show  you  that  she  doesn't/  and  then  we 
walked  forward,  and  I  showed  him  that  she  didn't. 
I  never  saw  a  man  so  surprised.  At  first  he  thought 
that  somebody  had  been  squirting  oil  in  front,  but 
even  if  that  had  been  the  case,  there  would  have  been 
some  sort  of  a  ripple  on  each  side  of  the  bow,  and 
there  wasn't  anything  of  the  kind.  The  skipper  took 
off  his  cap  and  scratched  his  head.  Then  he  turned 
and  sang  out,  ( Mr.  Rogers,  throw  the  log.' 

"Now  the  log,"  said  the  marine,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Fryker  and  her  daughter,  "is  a  little  piece  of  wood 
with  a  long  line  to  it,  that  they  throw  out  behind  a 
vessel  to  see  how  fast  she  is  going.  I  am  not  a 
regular  Jack  Tar  myself,  and  don't  understand  the 
principle  of  the  thing,  but  it  tells  you  exactly  how 
many  miles  an  hour  the  ship  is  going. 

"In  about  two  minutes  Mr.  Eogers  stepped  up, 
with  his  eyes  like  two  auger-holes,  and  said  he,  '  Cap 
tain,  we're  makin'  no  knots  an  hour.  We're  not  sail 
ing  at  all.' 

" '  Get  out/  roared  the  captain,  e  don't  you  see  the 
sails  ?  Don't  you  feel  the  wind  ?  Throw  that  log 
again,  sir.' 

"  Well,  they  threw  the  log  again,  the  captain  saw 
it  done,  and  sure  enough  Mr.  Eogers  was  right.  The 
vessel  wasn't  moving.  With  a  wind  that  ought  to 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  153 

have  carried  her  spinning  along,  miles  and  miles  in 
an  hour,  she  was  standing  stock-still.  The  skipper 
here  let  out  one  of  the  strongest  imprecations  used  in 
navigation,  and  said  he,  <Mr.  Rogers,  is  it  possible 
that  there  is  a  sand-bar  in  the  middle  of  the  Bay  of 
Bengal,  and  that  we've  stuck  on  it  ?  Cast  the  lead.' 

"I  will  just  state  to  the  ladies,"  said  the  marine, 
turning  toward  the  table,  "  that  the  lead  is  a  heavy 
weight  that  is  lowered  to  the  bottom  of  a  body  of 
water  to  see  how  deep  it  is,  and  this  operation  is  called 
sounding.  Well,  they  sounded  and  they  sounded,  but 
everywhere  —  fore,  aft,  and  midship  —  they  found 
plenty  of  water ;  in  fact,  not  having  a  line  for  deep- 
sea  sounding  they  couldn't  touch  bottom  at  all. 

"I  can  tell  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  the 
marine,  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  party, 
"that  things  now  began  to  feel  creepy.  I  am.  not 
afraid  of  storms,  nor  fires  at  sea,  nor  any  of  the 
common  accidents  of  the  ocean;  but  for  a  ship  to 
stand  still  with  plenty  of  water  under  her,  and  a 
strong  wind  filling  her  sails,  has  more  of  the  uncanny 
about  it  than  I  fancy.  Pretty  near  the  whole  of  the 
crew  was  on  deck  by  this  time,  and  I  could  see  that 
they  felt  very  much  as  I  did,  but  nobody  seemed  to 
know  what  to  say  about  it. 

"  Suddenly  the  captain  thought  that  some  unknown 
current  was  setting  against  us,  and  forcing  the  vessel 
back  with  the  same  power  that  the  wind  was  forcing 
her  forward,  and  he  tried  to  put  the  ship  about  so  as 
to  have  the  wind  on  her  starboard  quarter  ;  but  as  she 
hadn't  any  headway,  or  for  some  other  reason,  this 


154  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

didn't  work.  Then  it  struck  him  that  perhaps  one 
of  the  anchors  had  been  accidentally  dropped,  but  they 
were  all  in  their  places,  and  if  one  of  them  had 
dropped,  its  cable  would  not  have  been  long  enough 
to  touch  bottom. 

"Now  I  could  see  that  he  began  to  look  scared. 
6  Mr.  Browser/  said  he,  to  the  chief  engineer,  '  for  some 
reason  or  other  this  ship  does  not  make  headway 
under  sail.  You  must  go  to  work  and  get  the  engine 
running.'  And  for  the  rest  of  that  day  everybody  on 
board  who  understood  that  sort  of  thing  was  down 
below,  hard  at  work  with  the  machinery,  hammering 
and  banging  like  good  fellows. 

"  The  chief  officer  ordered  a  good  many  of  the  sails 
to  be  taken  in,  for  they  were  only  uselessly  straining 
the  masts,  but  there  were  enough  left  to  move  her  in 
case  the  power  of  the  current,  or  whatever  it  was  that 
stopped  her,  had  slackened,  and  she  steadily  kept  her 
position  with  the  breeze  abaft. 

"All  the  crew,  who  were  not  working  below,  were 
crowded  together  on  deck,  talking  about  this  strange 
thing.  I  joined  them,  and  soon  found  that  they 
thought  it  was  useless  to  waste  time  and  labor  on  the 
machinery.  They  didn't  believe  it  could  be  mended, 
and  if  it  should  be,  how  could  an  engine  move  a  vessel 
that  the  wind  couldn't  stir  ? 

"These  men  were  of  many  nationalities  —  Dutch, 
Scandinavian,  Spanish,  Italian,  South  American,  and 
a  lot  more.  Like  many  other  American  vessels  that 
sail  from  our  ports,  nearly  all  the  officers  and  crew 
were  foreigners.  The  captain  was  a  Finlander,  who 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  155 

spoke  very  good  English.  And  the  only  man  who 
called  himself  an  American  was  the  chief  officer ;  and 
he  was  only  half  a  one ;  for  he  was  born  in  Germany, 
came  to  the  United  States  when  he  was  twenty  years 
old,  stayed  there  five  years,  which  didn't  count 
either  way,  and  had  now  been  naturalized  for  twenty 
years. 

"The  consequence  of  this  variety  in  nationality 
was  that  the  nien  had  all  sorts  of  ideas  and  notions 
regarding  the  thing  that  was  happening.  They  had 
thrown  over  chips  and  bits  of  paper  to  see  if  the  ves 
sel  had  begun  to  move,  and  had  found  that  she  didn't 
budge  an  inch,  and  now  they  seemed  afraid  to  look 
over  the  sides. 

"They  were  a  superstitious  lot,  as  might  be  ex 
pected,  and  they  all  believed  that,  in  some  way  or  other, 
the  ship  was  bewitched ;  and  in  fact  I  felt  like  agree 
ing  with  them,  although  I  did  not  say  so. 

"There  was  an  old  Portuguese  sailor  on  board,  an 
ugly-looking,  weather-beaten  little  fellow,  and  when 
he  had  listened  to  everything  the  others  had  to  say, 
he  shuffled  himself  into  the  middle  of  the  group. 
'  Look  here,  mates/  said  he,  in  good  enough  English, 
( it's  no  use  talking  no  more  about  this.  I  know  what's 
the  matter ;  I've  sailed  these  seas  afore,  and  I've  been 
along  the  coast  of  this  bay  all  the  way  from  Negapa- 
tam  to  Jellasore  on  the  west  coast,  and  from  Chitta- 
gong  to  Kraw  on  the  other  ;  and  I  have  heard  stories 
of  the  strange  things  that  are  in  this  Bay  of  Bengal, 
and  what  they  do,  and  the  worst  of  them  all  is  the 
Water-devil  —  and  he's  got  us  ! ? 


156  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

"When  the  old  rascal  said  this,  there  wasn't  a  man 
on  deck  who  didn't  look  pale,  in  spite  of  his  dirt  and 
his  sunburn.  The  chief  officer  tried  to  keep  his  knees 
stiff,  but  I  could  see  him  shaking.  '  What's  a  Water- 
devil  ? '  said  he,  trying  to  make  believe  he  thought  it 
all  stuff  and  nonsense.  The  Portuguese  touched  his 
forelock.  '  Do  you  remember,  sir/  said  he,  '  what  was 
the  latitude  and  longitude  when  you  took  your  obser 
vation  to-day  ? '  '  Yes,'  said  the  other,  '  it  was  15° 
north  and  90°  east.'  The  Portuguese  nodded  his 
head.  e  That's  just  about  the  spot,  sir,  just  about.  I 
can't  say  exactly  where  the  spot  is,  but  it's  just  about 
here,  and  we've  struck  it.  There  isn't  a  native  sea 
man  on  any  of  these  coasts  that  would  sail  over  that 
point  if  he  knowed  it  and  could  help  it,  for  that's  the 
spot  where  the  Water-devil  lives.' 

"It  made  me  jump  to  hear  the  grunt  that  went 
through  that  crowd  when  he  said  this,  but  nobody 
asked  any  questions,  and  he  went  on.  'This  here 
Water-devil,'  said  he,  '  is  about  as  big  as  six  whales, 
and  in  shape  very  like  an  oyster  without  its  shell,  and 
he  fastens  himself  to  the  rocks  at  the  bottom  with 
a  million  claws.  Eight  out  of  the  middle  of  him 
there  grows  up  a  long  arm  that  reaches  to  the  top 
of  the  water,  and  at  the  end  of  this  arm  is  a  fist 
about  the  size  of  a  yawl-boat,  with  fifty-two  fingers  to 
it,  with  each  one  of  them  covered  with  little  suckers 
that  will  stick  fast  to  anything  —  iron,  wood,  stone, 
or  flesh.  All  that  this  Water-devil  gets  to  eat  is  what 
happens  to  come  swimmin'  or  sailin'  along  where  he 
can  reach  it,  and  it  doesn't  matter  to  him  whether  it's 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  157 

a  shark,  or  a  porpoise,  or  a  shipful  of  people,  and 
when  he  takes  a  grab  of  anything,  that  thing  never 
gets  away/ 

"About  this  time  there  were  five  or  six  men  on 
their  knees  saying  their  prayers,  such  as  they  were, 
and  a  good  many  others  looked  as  if  they  were  just 
about  to  drop. 

" '  Now,  when  this  Water-devil  gets  hold  of  a  ship/ 
the  old  fellow  went  on,  <he  don't  generally  pull  her 
straight  down  to  the  bottom,  but  holds  on  to  it  till  he 
counts  his  claws,  and  sees  that  they  are  all  fastened 
to  the  rocks ;  for  if  a  good  many  of  them  wasn't  fast 
ened  he  might  pull  himself  loose,  instead  of  pulling 
the  ship  down,  and  then  he'd  be  a  goner,  for  he'd  be 
towed  away,  and  like  as  not  put  in  a  museum.  But 
when  he  is  satisfied  that  he  is  moored  fast  and  strong, 
then  he  hauls  on  his  arm,  and  down  comes  the  ship, 
no  matter  how  big  she  is.  As  the  ship  is  sinkin'  he 
turns  her  over,  every  now  and  then,  keel  uppermost, 
and  gives  her  a  shake,  and  when  the  people  drop  out, 
he  sucks  them  into  a  sort  of  funnel,  which  is  his  mouth.' 

" e  Does  he  count  fast  ? '  asked  one  of  the  men,  this 
being  the  first  question  that  had  been  asked. 

"  'I've  heard,'  said  the  Portuguese,  '  that  he's  a 
rapid  calculator,  and  the  minute  he's  got  to  his  mil 
lionth  claw,  and  finds  it's  hooked  tight  and  fast,  he 
begins  to  haul  down  the  ship. ' ' 

At  this  point  the  marine  stopped  and  glanced 
around  at  the  little  group.  The  blacksmith's  wife 
and  daughter  had  put  down  their  work,  and  were 
gazing  at  him  with  an  air  of  horrified  curiosity.  The 


158  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

blacksmith  held  his  pipe  in  his  hand,  and  regarded 
the  narrator  with  the  steadiness  and  impassiveness  of 
an  anvil.  The  school-master  was  listening  with  the 
greatest  eagerness.  He  was  an  enthusiast  on  Natural 
History  and  Mythology,  and  had  written  an  article 
for  a  weekly  paper  on  the  reconciliation  of  the  beasts 
of  tradition  with  the  fanna  of  to-day.  Mr.  Harberry 
was  not  looking  at  the  marine.  His  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  school-master. 

"Mr.  Cardly,"  said  he,  "did  you  ever  read  of  an 
animal  like  that  ?  " 

"I  cannot  say  that  I  have,"  was  his  reply;  "but 
it  is  certain  that  there  are  many  strange  creatures, 
especially  in  the  sea,  of  which  scientists  are  compara 
tively  ignorant." 

"  Such  as  the  sea-serpent,"  added  the  marine,  quickly, 
"and  a  great  many  other  monsters  who  are  not  in  the 
books,  but  who  have  a  good  time  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea,  all  the  same.  Well,  to  go  on  with  my  story,  you 
must  understand  that,  though  this  Portuguese  spoke 
broken  English,  which.  I  haven't  tried  to  give  you,  he 
made  himself  perfectly  plain  to  all  of  us,  and  I  can 
assure  you  that  when  he  got  through  talking  there 
was  a  shaky  lot  of  men  on  that  deck. 

"  The  chief  officer  said  he  would  go  below  and  see 
how  the  captain  was  getting  on,  and  the  crew  huddled 
together  in  the  bow,  and  began  whispering  among 
themselves,  as  if  they  were  afraid  the  Water-devil 
would  hear  them.  I  turned  to  walk  aft,  feeling  pretty 
queer,  I  can  tell  you,  when  I  saw  Miss  Minturn  just 
coming  up  from  the  cabin  below. 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  159 

"I  haven't  said  anything  about  Miss  Minturn,  but 
she  and  her  father,  who  was  an  elderly  English  gentle 
man  and  an  invalid,  who  had  never  left  his  berth 
since  we  took  him  up  at  Singapore,  were  our  only 
passengers,  except,  of  course,  myself.  She  was  a 
beautiful  girl,  with  soft  blue  eyes  and  golden  hair, 
and  a  little  pale  from  constantly  staying  below  to 
nurse  her  father. 

"Of  course  I  had  had  little  or  nothing  to  say  to 
her,  for  her  father  was  a  good  deal  of  a  swell  and  I 
was  only  a  marine  ;  but  now  she  saw  me  standing 
there  by  myself,  and  she  came  right  up  to  me.  '  Can 
you  tell  me,  sir/  she  said,  '  if  anything  else  has  hap 
pened  ?  They  are  making  a  great  din  in  the  engine- 
room.  I  have  been  looking  out  of  our  port,  and  the 
vessel  seems  to  me  to  be  stationary.'  She  stopped  at 
that,  and  waited  to  hear  what  I  had  to  say,  but  I 
assure  you  I  would  have  liked  to  have  had  her  go  on 
talking  for  half  an  hour.  Her  voice  was  rich  and 
sweet,  like  that  of  so  many  Englishwomen,  although, 
I  am  happy  to  say,  a  great  many  of  my  countrywomen 
have  just  as  good  voices ;  and  when  I  meet  any  of 
them  for  the  first  time,  I  generally  give  them  the 
credit  of  talking  in  soft  and  musical  notes,  even 
though  I  ha.ve  not  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  them 
speak." 

"  Look  here/'  said  the  blacksmith,  "  can't  you  skip 
the  girl  and  get  back  to  the  Devil  ?  " 

"]STo,"  said  the  marine,  "I  couldn't  do  that.  The 
two  are  mixed  together,  so  to  speak,  so  that  I  have  to 
tell  you  of  both  of  them." 


160  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fryker, 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  and  by  no  means  in  soft 
and  musical  tones,  "  that  he  swallowed  her  ?  " 

"  I'll  go  on  with  the  story,"  said  the  marine ;  "  that's 
the  best  way,  and  everything  will  come  up  in  its  place. 
Now,  of  course,  I  wasn't  going  to  tell  this  charming 
young  woman,  with  a  sick  father,  anything  about  the 
Water-devil,  though  what  reason  to  give  her  for  our 
standing  still  here  I  couldn't  imagine;  but  of  course 
I  had  to  speak,  and  I  said, '  Don't  be  alarmed,  miss,  we 
have  met  with  an  unavoidable  detention ;  that  sort  of 
thing  often  happens  in  navigation.  I  can't  explain  it 
to  you,  but  you  see  the  ship  is  perfectly  safe  and 
sound,  and  she  is  merely  under  sail  instead  of  having 
her  engines  going.' 

"<I  understood  about  that/  said  she,  'and  father 
and  I  were  both  perfectly  satisfied ;  for  he  said  that 
if  we  had  a  good  breeze  we  would  not  be  long  in  reach 
ing  Calcutta ;  but  we  seem  to  have  a  breeze,  and  yet 
we  don't  go.'  '  You'll  notice,'  said  I,  ( that  the  sails 
are  not  all  set,  and  for  some  reason  the  wind  does  not 
serve.  When  the  engines  are  mended,  we  shall  prob 
ably  go  spinning  along.'  She  looked  as  if  she  was 
trying  to  appear  satisfied.  '  Thank  you,  sir/  she  said. 
<I  hope  we  may  shortly  proceed  on  our  way,  but  in 
the  meantime  I  shall  not  say  anything  to  my  father 
about  this  detention.  I  think  he  has  not  noticed  it.' 
'  That  would  be  very  wise/  I  replied,  and  as  she  turned 
toward  the  companionway  I  was  wild  to  say  to  her 
that  it  would  be  a  lot  better  for  her  to  stay  on  deck, 
and  get  some  good  fresh  air,  instead  of  cooping  her- 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  161 

self  up  in  that  close  cabin ;  but  I  didn't  know  her 
well  enough  for  that." 

"Now  that  you  are  through  with  the  girl,"  said  the 
blacksmith,  "what  did  the  Devil  do  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  got  to  him  yet/'  said  the  marine,  "  but 
after  Miss  Minturn  went  below  I  began  to  think  of 
him,  and  the  more  I  thought  of  him,  the  less  I  liked 
him.  I  think  the  chief  officer  must  have  told  the 
men  below  about  the  Water-devil,  for  pretty  soon  the 
whole  kit  and  boodle  of  them  left  their  work  and 
came  on  deck,  skipper  and  all.  They  told  me  they 
had  given  up  the  engine  as  a  bad  job,  and  I  thought 
to  myself  that  most  likely  they  were  all  too  nervous 
to  rightly  know  what  they  were  about.  The  captain 
threw  out  the  log  again,  but  it  floated  alongside  like 
a  cork  on  a  fishing-line,  and  at  this  he  turned  pale 
and  walked  away  from  the  ship's  side,  forgetting  to 
pull  it  in  again. 

"  It  was  now  beginning  to  grow  dark,  and  as  nobody 
seemed  to  think  about  supper,  I  went  below  to  look 
into  that. matter.  It  wouldn't  do  for  Miss  Minturn 
and  her  father  to  go  without  their  regular  meal,  for 
that  would  be  sure  to  scare  them  to  death;  and  if  I'm 
to  have  a  big  scare  I  like  to  take  it  on  a  good  square 
meal,  so  I  went  below  to  see  about  it.  But  I  wasn't 
needed,  for  Miss  Minturn's  maid,  who  was  an  elderly 
woman,  and  pretty  sharp  set  in  her  temper,  was  in  the 
cook's  galley  superintending  supper  for  her  people, 
and  after  she  got  through  I  superintended  some  for 
myself. 

"After  that  I  felt  a  good  deal  bolder,  and  I  lighted 


162  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

a  pipe  and  went  on  deck.  There  I  found  the  whole 
ship's  company,  officers  and  crew,  none  of  them  doing 
anything,  and  most  of  them  clustered  together  in  little 
groups,  whispering  or  grunting. 

"  I  went  up  to  the  captain  and  asked  him  what  he 
was  going  to  do  next.  'Do  ? '  said  he ;  '  there  is  nothing 
to  do;  Fve  done  everything  that  I  can  do.  I'm  all 
upset;  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  myself  or  some 
other  man ' ;  and  then  he  walked  away. 

"  I  sat  there  and  smoked  and  looked  at  them,  and  I 
can  tell  you  the  sight  wasn't  cheerful.  There  was  the 
ship,  just  as  good  and  sound,  as  far  as  anybody  could 
see,  as  anything  that  floated  on  the  ocean,  and  here 
were  all  her  people,  shivering  and  shaking  and  not 
speaking  above  their  breath,  looking  for  all  the  world, 
under  the  light  of  the  stars  and  the  ship's  lamps, 
which  some  of  them  had  had  sense  enough  to  light,  as 
if  they  expected  in  the  course  of  the  next  half-hour,  to 
be  made  to  walk  the  plank;  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
what  they  were  afraid  of  would  come  to  pretty  much 
the  same  thing." 

"Mr.  Cardly,"  here  interrupted  Mr.  Harberry, 
"how  long  does  it  take  to  count  a  million  ?  " 

"That  depends,"  said  the  school-master,  "on  the 
rapidity  of  the  calculator;  some  calculators  count 
faster  than  others.  An  ordinary  boy,  counting  two 
hundred  a  miriute,  would  require  nearly  three  days 
and  a  half  to  count  a  million." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Harberry;  "please  go  on 
with  your  story,  sir." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  marine,  "there  is  a  great  dif- 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  163 

ference  between  a  boy  and  a  Water-devil,  and  it  is  im 
possible  for  anybody  to  know  how  fast  the  latter  can 
count,  especially  as  he  may  be  supposed  to  be  used  to 
it.  Well,  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer  on  deck,  and 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  I  turned  in  and  went  to 
sleep." 

"  To  sleep  !  Went  to  sleep ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fry- 
ker.  "  I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  done  that." 

"Ah,  madam,"  said  the  marine,  "we  soldiers  of  the 
sea  are  exposed  to  all  sorts  of  dangers,  —  combination 
dangers,  you  might  call  them,  —  and  in  the  course  of 
time  we  get  used  to  it;  if  we  didn't  we  couldn't  do 
our  duty. 

"As  the  ship  had  been  in  its  present  predicament 
for  six  or  seven  hours,  and  nothing  had  happened, 
there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  things  would  not 
remain  as  they  were  for  six  or  seven  hours  more,  in 
which  time  I  might  get  a  good  sleep,  and  be  better 
prepared  for  what  might  come.  There's  nothing  like  a 
good  meal  and  a  good  sleep  as  a  preparation  for  danger. 

"  It  was  daylight  when  I  awakened,  and  rapidly 
glancing  about  me,  I  saw  that  everything  appeared  to 
be  all  right.  Looking  out  of  the  port-hole,  I  could  see 
that  the  vessel  was  still  motionless.  I  hurried  on 
deck,  and  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  nobody  there 
—  no  one  on  watch,  no  one  at  the  wheel,  no  one 
anywhere.  I  ran  down  into  the  fo'castle,  which  is 
the  sailors'  quarters,  but  not  a  soul  could  I  see.  I 
called,  I  whistled,  I  searched  everywhere,  but  no  one 
answered ;  I  could  find  no  one.  Then  I  dashed  up  on 
deck,  and  glared  around  me.  Every  boat  was  gone. 


164  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

"  'Now  I  knew  what  had  happened :  the  cowardly 
rascals,  from  captain  to  cook,  had  deserted  the  ship  in 
the  night,  and  I  had  been  left  behind  ! 

"  For  some  minutes  I  stood  motionless,  wondering 
how  men  could  be  so  unfeeling  as  to  do  such  a  thing. 
I  soon  became  convinced,  from  what  I  had  seen  of  the 
crew,  that  they  had  not  all  gone  off  together,  that 
there  had  been  no  concerted  action.  A  number  of 
them  had  probably  quietly  lowered  a  boat  and  sneaked 
away;  then  another  lot  had  gone  off,  hoping  their 
mates  would  not  hear  them  and  therefore  crowd  into 
their  boat.  And  so  they  had  all  departed,  not  one 
boat-load  thinking  of  anybody  but  themselves ;  or  if 
they  thought  at  all  about  others,  quieting  their  con 
sciences  by  supposing  that  there  were  enough  boats 
on  the  vessel,  and  that  the  other  people  were  as  likely 
to  get  off  as  they  were. 

"  Suddenly  I  thought  of  the  other  passengers.  Had 
they  been  left  behind  ?  I  ran  down  below,  and  I  had 
scarcely  reached  the  bottom  of  the  steps  when  I  met 
Miss  Minturn' s  maid.  'It  seems  to  me/  she  said, 
sharply,  '  that  the  people  on  this  ship  are  neglecting 
their  duty.  There's  nobody  in  the  kitchen,  and  I 
want  some  gruel/  'My  good  woman/  said  I,  'who 
do  you  want  it  for  ?  '  'Who  ! '  she  replied ;  'why,  for 
Mr.  Minturn,  of  course ;  and  Miss  Minturn  may  like 
some,  too.' 

"Then  I  knew  that  all  the  passengers  had  been 
left  behind ! 

"  'If  you  want  any  gruel/  said  I,  'you  will  have  to 
go  into  the  galley  and  make  it  yourself ' ;  and  then  in 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  165 

a  low  tone  I  told  her  what  had  happened,  for  I  knew 
that  it  would  be  much  better  for  me  to  do  this  than 
for  her  to  find  it  out  for  herself.  Without  a  word  she 
sat  right  down  on  the  floor,  and  covered  her  head  with 
her  apron.  'Now  don't  make  a  row/  said  I,  'and 
frighten  your  master  and  mistress  to  death ;  we're  all 
right  so  far,  and  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  take  care  of 
Mr.  and  Miss  Minturn,  and  cook  their  meals.  The 
steamer  is  tight  and  sound,  and  it  can't  be  long  be 
fore  some  sort  of  a  craft  will  come  by  and  take  us  off.' 
I  left  her  sniffling  with  her  apron  over  her  head,  but 
when  I  came  back,  ten  minutes  afterward,  she  was  in 
the  galley  making  gruel. 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  be  surprised,  my  friends," 
continued  the  marine,  "when  I  tell  you  that  I  now 
found  myself  in  a  terrible  state  of  mind.  Of  course  I 
hadn't  felt  very  jovial  since  the  steamer  had  been  so 
wonderfully  stopped;  but  when  the  captain  and  all 
the  crew  were  aboard,  I  had  that  sort  of  confidence 
which  comes  from  believing  that  when  there  are  peo 
ple  about  whose  duty  it  is  to  do  things,  when  the  time 
comes  to  do  the  things,  they  will  do  them  ;  but  now, 
practically  speaking,  there  was  nobody  but  me.  The 
others  on  board  were  not  to  be  counted,  except  as  en 
cumbrances.  In  truth,  I  was  alone,  —  alone  with  the 
Water-devil ! 

"  The  moment  I  found  no  one  to  depend  upon  but 
myself,  and  that  I  was  deserted  in  the  midst  of  this 
lonely  mass  of  water,  in  that  moment  did  my  belief 
in  the  Water-devil  begin  to  grow.  When  I  first  heard 
of  the  creature,  I  didn't  consider  that  it  was  my  busi- 


166  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

ness  either  to  believe  in  it,  or  not  to  believe  in  it,  and 
I  could  let  the  whole  thing  drop  out  of  my  mind,  if 
I  chose;  but  now  it  was  a  different  matter.  I  was 
bound  to  think  for  myself,  and  the  more  I  thought, 
the  more  I  believed  in  the  Water-devil. 

"  The  fact  was,  there  wasn't  anything  else  to  believe 
in.  I  had  gone  over  the  whole  question,  and  the  skip 
per  had  gone  all  over  it,  and  everybody  else  had  gone 
all  over  it,  and  no  one  could  think  of  anything  but  a 
Water-devil  that  could  stop  a  steamer  in  this  way  in 
the  middle  of  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  and  hold  her  there 
hour  after  hour,  in  spite  of  wind  and  wave  and  tide. 
It  could  not  be  anything  but  the  monster  the  Portu 
guese  had  told  us  of,  and  all  I  now  could  do  was  to 
wonder  whether,  when  he  was  done  counting  his  mil 
lion  claws,  he  would  be  able  to  pull  down  a  vessel  of 
a  thousand  tons,  for  that  was  about  the  size  of  the 
General  Brooks. 

"I  think  I  should  no\v  have  begun  to  lose  my  wits 
if  it  had  not  been  for  one  thing,  and  that  was  the 
coming  of  Miss  Minturn  on  deck.  The  moment  I  saw 
her  lovely  face  I  stiffened  up  wonderfully.  '  Sir/  said 
she,  '  I  would  like  to  see  the  captain.'  '  I  am  repre 
senting  the  captain,  miss/  I  said,  with  a  bow ;  '  what 
is  it  that  I  can  do  for  you ?'  'I  want  to  speak  to  him 
about  the  steward/  she  said;  'I  think  he  is  neglect 
ing  his  duty.'  <I  also  represent  the  steward/  I 
replied ;  '  tell  me  what  you  wish  of  him.'  She  made 
no  answer  to  this,  but  looked  about  her  in  a  startled 
way.  ' Where  are  all  the  men?'  she  said.  'Miss 
Minturn/  said  I,  'I  represent  the  crew  —  in  fact,  I 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  167 

represent  the  whole  ship's  company  except  the  cook, 
and  his  place  must  be  taken  by  your  maid.'  '  What 
do  you  mean?'  she  asked,  looking  at  me  with  her 
wide-opened,  beautiful  eyes. 

"  Then,  as  there  was  no  help  for  it,  I  told  her  every 
thing,  except  that  I  did  not  mention  the  Water-devil 
in  connection  with  our  marvellous  stoppage.  I  only 
said  that  that  was  caused  by  something  which  nobody 
understood. 

"  She  did  not  sit  down  and  cover  her  head,  nor  did 
she  scream  or  faint.  She  turned  pale,  but  looked 
steadily  at  me,  and  her  voice  did  not  shake  as  she 
asked  me  what  was  to  be  done.  '  There  is  nothing  to 
be  done/  I  answered,  'but  to  keep  up  good  hearts,  eat 
three  meals  a  day,  and  wait  until  a  ship  comes  along 
and  takes  us  off.' 

"  She  stood  silent  for  about  three  minutes.  ( I 
think,'  she  then  said,  'that  I  will  not  yet  tell  my 
father  what  has  happened ' ;  and  she  went  below. 

"  Now,  strange  to  say,  I  walked  up  and  down  the 
deck  with  my  hat  cocked  on  one  side  and  my  hands 
in  my  pockets,  feeling  a  great  deal  better.  I  did  not 
like  Water-devils  any  more  than  I  did  before,  and  I 
did  not  believe  in  this  one  any  less  than  I  did  before, 
but,  after  all,  there  was  some  good  about  him.  It 
seems  odd,  but  the  arm  of  this  submarine  monster,  over 
a  mile  long  for  all  that  I  knew,  was  a  bond  of  union 
between  the  lovely  Miss  Minturn  and  me.  She  was 
a  lady;  I  was  a  marine.  So  far  as  I  knew  anything 
about  bonds  of  union,  there  wasn't  one  that  could  have 
tackled  itself  to  us  two,  except  this  long,  slippery  arm 


168  THE  WATER-DEVIL. 

of  the  Water-devil,  with  one  end  in  the  monstrous  flob 
at  the  bottom,  and  the  other  fast  to  our  ship. 

"  There  was  no  doubt  about  it,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
that  Water-devil  she  would  have  been  no  more  to  me 
than  the  Queen  of  Madagascar  was ;  but  under  the 
circumstances,  if  I  wasn't  everything  to  her,  who 
could  be  anything  —  that  is,  if  one  looked  at  the  mat 
ter  from  a  practical  point  of  view?" 

The  blacksmith  made  a  little  movement  of  impa 
tience.  " Suppose  you  cut  all  that/'  said  he.  "I 
don't  care  about  the  bond  of  union ;  I  want  to  know 
what  happened  to  the  ship." 

"  It  is  likely,"  said  the  marine,  "  if  I  could  have  cut 
the  bond  of  union  that  I  spoke  of,  that  is  to  say,  the 
Water-devil's  arm,  that  I  would  have  done  it,  hoping 
that  I  might  safely  float  off  somewhere  with  Miss 
Miiiturn ;  but  I  couldn't  cut  it  then,  and  I  can't  cut  it 
now.  That  bond  is  part  of  my  story,  and  it  must  all 
go  on  together. 

"  I  now  set  myself  to  work  to  do  what  I  thought 
ought  to  be  done  under  the  circumstances,  but,  of 
course,  that  wasn't  very  much.  I  hoisted  a  flag  upside 
down,  and  after  considering  the  matter  I  concluded  to 
take  in  all  the  sails  that  had  been  set.  I  thought 
that  a  steamer  without  smoke  coming  from  her  fun 
nel,  and  no  sails  set,  would  be  more  likely  to  attract 
attention  from  distant  vessels  than  if  she  appeared  to 
be  under  sail. 

"  I  am  not  a  regular  sailor,  as  I  said  before,  but  I 
got  out  on  the  yard,  and  cut  the  square  sail  loose  and 
let  it  drop  on  the  deck,  and  I  let  the  jib  come  down 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  169 

on  a  run,  and  managed  to  bundle  it  up  some  way  on 
the  bowsprit.  This  sort  of  thing  took  all  the  nautical 
gymnastics  that  I  was  master  of,  and  entirely  occu 
pied  my  mind,  so  that  I  found  myself  whistling  while 
I  worked.  I  hoped  Miss  Minturn  heard  me  whistle, 
because  it  would  not  only  give  her  courage,  but  would 
let  her  see  that  I  was  not  a  man  who  couldn't  keep 
up  his  spirits  in  a  case  like  this. 

"When  that  work  was  over,  I  began  to  wonder 
what  I  should  do  next,  and  then  an  idea  struck  me. 
'  Suppose/  thought  I,  '  that  we  are  not  stationary,  but 
that  we  are  in  some  queer  kind  of  a  current,  and  that 
the  water,  ship  and  all  are  steadily  moving  on  to 
gether,  so  that  after  awhile  we  shall  come  in  sight  of 
land,  or  into  the  track  of  vessels  ! ? 

"I  instantly  set  about  to  find  out  if  this  was  the 
case.  It  was  about  noon,. and  it  so  happened  that  on 
the  day  before,  when  the  chief  officer  took  his  obser 
vation,  I  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  watch  him  and 
see  how  he  did  it.  I  don't  see  why  I  should  have  had 
this  notion,  but  I  had  it,  and  I  paid  the  strictest  at 
tention  to  the  whole  business,  calculation  part  and 
all,  and  I  found  out  exactly  how  it  was  done. 

"  Well,  then,  I  went  and  got  the  quadrant,  —  that's 
the  thing  they  do  it  with,  —  and  I  took  an  observation, 
and  I  found  that  we  were  in  latitude  15°  north,  90° 
east,  exactly  where  we  had  been  twenty-four  hours 
before ! 

"  When  I  found  out  this,  I  turned  so  faint  that  I 
wanted  to  sit  down  and  cover  up  my  head.  The 
Water-devil  had  us,  there  was  no  mistake  about  it 


170  THE   WATER-DEVIL.       . 

and  no  use  trying  to  think  of  anything  else.  I  stag 
gered  along  the  deck,  went  below,  and  cooked  myself 
a  meal.  In  a  case  like  this  there's  nothing  like  a 
square  meal  to  keep  a  man  up. 

"I  know  you  don't  like  to  hear  her  mentioned/' 
said  the  marine,  turning  to  the  blacksmith,  "but  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  in  course  of  the  afternoon  Miss 
Minturn  came  on  deck  several  times,  to  ask  if  any 
thing  new  had  happened,  and  if  I  had  seen  a  vessel. 
I  showed  her  all  that  I  had  done,  and  told  her  I  was 
going  to  hang  out  lights  at  night,  and  did  everything 
I  could  to  keep  her  on  deck  as  long  as  possible ;  for 
it  was  easy  to  see  that  she  needed  fresh  air,  and  I 
needed  company.  As  long  as  I  was  talking  to  her  I 
didn't  care  a  snap  of  my  finger  for  the  Water-devil. 
It  is  queer  what  an  influence  a  beautiful  woman  has 
on  a  man,  but  it's  so,  and  there's  no  use  arguing  about 
it.  She  said  she  had  been  puzzling  her  brains  to  find 
out  what  had  stopped  us,  and  she  supposed  it  must  be 
that  we  had  run  onto  a  shallow  place  and  stuck  fast 
in  the  mud,  but  thought  it  wonderful  that  there  should 
be  such  a  place  so  far  from  land.  I  agreed  with  her 
that  it  was  wonderful,  and  added  that  that  was  prob 
ably  the  reason  the  captain  and  the  crew  had  been 
seized  with  a  panic.  But  sensible  people  like  herself 
and  her  father,  I  said,  ought  not  to  be  troubled  by 
such  an  occurrence,  especially  as  the  vessel  remained 
in  a  perfectly  sound  condition. 

"She  said  that  her  father  was  busily  engaged  in 
writing  his  memoirs,  and  that  his  mind  was  so  occu 
pied,  he  had  not  concerned  himself  at  all  about  our 


THE  WATER-DEVIL.  171 

situation,  that  is,  if  lie  had  noticed  that  we  were  not 
moving.  'If  he  wants  to  see  the  steward,  or  anybody 
else/  I  said,  'please  call  upon  me.  You  know  I 
represent  the  whole  ship's  company,  and  I  shall  be 
delighted  to  do  anything  for  him  or  for  you/  She 
thanked  me  very  much  and  went  below. 

"  She  came  up  again,  after  this,  but  her  maid  came 
with  her,  and  the  two  walked  on  deck  for  a  while.  I 
didn't  have  much  to  say  to  them  that  time ;  but  just 
before  dark  Miss  Minturn  came  on  deck  alone,  and 
walked  forward,  where  I  happened  to  be.  ( Sir/  said 
she,  and  her  voice  trembled  a  little  as  she  spoke,  '  if 
anything  should  happen,  will  you  promise  me  that 
you  will  try  to  save  my  father  ? '  You  can't  imagine 
how  these  touching  words  from  this  beautiful  woman 
affected  me.  '  My  dear  lady/  said  I,  and  I  hope  she 
did  not  take  offence  at  the  warmth  of  my  expression, 
'  I  don't  see  how  anything  can  happen ;  but  I  promise 
you,  on  the  word  of  a  sea-soldier,  that  if  danger  should 
come  upon  us,  I  will  save  not  only  your  father,  but 
yourself  and  your  maid.  Trust  me  for  that/ 

"  The  look  she  gave  me  when  I  said  these  words, 
and  especially  the  flash  of  her  eye  when  I  spoke  of 
my  being  a  sea-soldier,  made  me  feel  strong  enough 
to  tear  that  sea-monster's  arm  in  twain,  and  to  sail 
away  with  the  lovely  creature  for  whom  my  heart 
was  beginning  to  throb." 

"  It's  a  pity,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  that  you  hadn't 
jumped  into  the  water  while  the  fit  was  on  you,  and 
done  the  tearing." 

"  A  man  often  feels  strong  enough  to  do  a  thing," 


172  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

said  the  marine,  "  and  yet  doesn't  care  to  try  to  do  it, 
and  that  was  my  case  at  that  time ;  but  I  vowed  to 
myself  that  if  the  time  came  when  there  was  any 
saving  to  be  done,  Fd  attend  to  Miss  Minturn,  even 
if  I  had  to  neglect  the  rest  of  the  family. 

"  She  didn't  make  any  answer,  but  she  gave  me  her 
hand;  and  she  couldn't  have  done  anything  I  liked 
better  than  that.  I  held  it  as  long  as  I  could,  which 
wasn't  very  long,  and  then  she  went  down  to  her 
father." 

"  Glad  of  it,"  said  the  blacksmith. 

"  When  I  had  had  my  supper,  and  had  smoked  my 
pipe,  and  everything  was  still,  and  I  knew  I  shouldn't 
see  anybody  any  more  that  night,  I  began  to  have  the 
quakes  and  the  shakes.  If  even  I  had  had  the  maid 
to  talk  to,  it  would  have  been  a  comfort ;  but  in  the 
way  of  faithfully  attending  to  her  employers  that 
woman  was  a  trump.  She  cooked  for  them,  and  did 
for  them,  and  stuck  by  them  straight  along,  so  she 
hadn't  any  time  for  chats  with  me. 

"Being  aloue,  I  couldn't  help  all  the  time  thinking 
about  the  Water-devil,  and  although  it  seems  a  foolish 
thing  now  that  I  look  back  on  it,  I  set  to  work  to 
calculate  how  long  it  would  take  him  to  count  his 
feet.  I  made  it  about  the  same  time  as  you  did,  sir," 
nodding  to  the  school-master,  "  only  I  considered  that 
if  he  counted  twelve  hours,  and  slept  and  rested 
twelve  hours,  that  would  make  it  seven  days,  which 
would  give  me  a  good  long  time  with  Miss  Minturn, 
and  that  would  be  the  greatest  of  joys  to  me,  -no 
matter  what  happened  afterward. 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  173 

"  But  then  nobody  could  be  certain  that  the  mon 
ster  at  the  bottom  of  the  bay  needed  rest  or  sleep. 
He  might  be  able  to  count  without  stopping,  and  how 
did  I  know  that  he  couldn't  check  off  four  hundred 
claws  a  minute  ?  If  that  happened  to  be  the  case, 
our  time  must  be  nearly  up. 

"When  that  idea  came  into  my  head,  I  jumped  up 
and  began  to  walk  about.  What  could  I  do  ?  I  cer 
tainly  ought  to  be  ready  to  do  something  when  the 
time  came.  I  thought  of  getting  life-preservers,  and 
strapping  one  on  each  of  us,  so  that  if  the  Water-devil 
turned  over  the  vessel  and  shook  us  out,  we  shouldn't 
sink  down  to  him,  but  would  float  on  the  surface. 

"  But  then  the  thought  struck  me  that  if  he  should 
find  the  vessel  empty  of  live  creatures,  and  should  see 
us  floating  around  on  the  top,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to 
let  go  of  the  ship  and  grab  us,  one  at  a  time.  When 
I  thought  of  a  fist  as  big  as  a  yawl-boat,  clapping  its 
fifty-two  fingers  on  me,  it  sent  a  shiver  through  my 
bones.  The  fact  was  there  wasn't  anything  to  do, 
and  so  after  a  while  I  managed  to  get  asleep,  which 
was  a  great  comfort." 

"Mr.  Cardly,"  said  Mr.  Harberry  to  the  school 
master,  "what  reason  can  you  assign  why  a  sea- 
monster,  such  as  has  been  described  to  us,  should 
neglect  to  seize  upon  several  small  boats  filled  with 
men  who  were  escaping  from  a  vessel  which  it  held 
in  custody  ?  " 

"I  do  not  precisely  see,"  answered  Mr.  Cardly, 
"why  these  men  should  have  been  allowed  this  im 
munity,  but  I  —  " 


174  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

"  Oh,  that  is  easily  explained/'  interrupted  the 
marine,  "for  of  course  the  Water-devil  could  not 
know  that  a  lot  more  people  were  not  left  in  the  ship, 
and  if  he  let  go  his  hold  on  her,  to  try  and  grab  a 
boat  that  was  moving  as  fast  as  men  could  row  it,  the 
steamer  might  get  out  of  his  reach,  and  he  mightn't 
have  another  chance  for  a  hundred  years  to  make  fast 
to  a  vessel.  No,  sir,  a  creature  like  that  isn't  apt  to 
take  any  wild  chances,  when  he's  got  hold  of  a  really 
good  thing.  Anyway,  we  were  held  tight  and  fast, 
for  at  twelve  o'clock  the  next  day  I  took  another 
observation,  and  there  we  were,  in  the  same  latitude 
and  longitude  that  we  had  been  in  for  two  days.  I 
took  the  captain's  glass,  and  I  looked  all  over  the 
water  of  that  bay,  which,  as  I  think  I  have  said 
before,  was  all  the  same  as  the  ocean,  being  some 
where  about  a  thousand  miles  wide.  Not  a  sail,  not 
a  puff  of  smoke  could  I  see.  It  must  have  been  a 
slack  season  for  navigation,  or  else  we  were  out  of 
the  common  track  of  vessels ;  I  had  never  known  that 
the  Bay  of  Bengal  was  so  desperately  lonely. 

"It  seems  unnatural,  and  I  can  hardly  believe  it, 
when  I  look  back  on  it,  but  it's  a  fact,  that  I  was 
beginning  to  get  used  to  the  situation.  We  had 
plenty  to  eat,  the  weather  was  fine  —  in  fact,  there 
was  now  only  breeze  enough  to  make  things  cool  and 
comfortable.  I  was  head-man  on  that  vessel,  and  Miss 
Minturn  might  come  on  deck  at  any  .moment,  and  as 
long  as  I  could  forget  that  there  was  a  Water-devil 
fastened  to  the  bottom  of  the  vessel,  there  was  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  be  perfectly  satisfied  with 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  175 

things  as  they  were.  And  if  things  had  stayed  as 
they  were,  for  two  or  three  months,  I  should  have 
been  right  well  pleased,  especially  since  Miss  Min- 
turn's  maid,  by  order  of  her  mistress,  had  begun  to 
cook  my  meals,  which  she  did  in  a  manner  truly  first- 
class.  I  believed  then,  and  I  stand  to  it  now,  that 
there  is  no  better  proof  of  a  woman's  good  feeling 
toward  a  man,  than  for  her  to  show  an  interest  in  his 
meals.  That's  the  sort  of  sympathy  that  comes  home 
to  a  man,  and  tells  on  him,  body  and  soul." 

As  the  marine  made  this  remark,  he  glanced  at  the 
blacksmith's  daughter ;  but  that  young  lady  had  taken 
up  her  sewing  and  appeared  to  be  giving  it  her  earnest 
attention.  He  then  went  on  with  his  story. 

"But  things  did  not  remain  as  they  were.  The 
next  morning,  about  half  an  hour  after  breakfast,  I 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  upper  deck,  smoking 
my  pipe,  and  wondering  when  Miss  Minturn  would  be 
coming  up  to  talk  to  me  about  the  state  of  affairs, 
when  suddenly  I  felt  the  deck  beneath  me  move  with 
a  quick,  sharp  jerk,  something  like,  I  imagine,  a  small 
shock  of  an  earthquake. 

"  Never,  in  all  my  life,  did  the  blood  run  so  cold  in 
my  veins ;  my  legs  trembled  so  that  I  could  scarcely 
stand.  I  knew  what  had  happened,  —  the  Water-devil 
had  begun  to  haul  upon  the  ship  ! 

"I  was  in  such  a  state  of  collapse  that  I  did  not 
seem  to  have  any  power  over  my  muscles ;  but  for  all 
that,  I  heard  Miss  Minturn's  voice  at  the  foot  of  the 
companion-way,  and  knew  that  she  was  coming  on 
deck.  In  spite  of  the  dreadful  awfulness  of  that  mo- 


176  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

ment,  I  felt  it  would  never  do  for  her  to  see  me  in  the 
condition  I  was  in,  and  so,  shuffling  and  half-tumbling, 
I  got  forward,  went  below,  and  made  my  way  to  the 
steward's  room,  where  I  had  already  discovered  some 
spirits,  and  I  took  a  good  dram;  for  although  I  am 
not  by  any  means  an  habitual  drinker,  being  princi 
pled  against  that  sort  of  thing,  there  are  times  when 
a  man  needs  the  support  of  some  good  brandy  or 
whiskey. 

"In  a  few  minutes  I  felt  more  like  myself,  and 
went  on  deck,  and  there  was  Miss  Minturn,  half- 
scared  to  death.  'What  is  the  meaning  of  that 
shock  ? '  she  said ;  '  have  we  struck  anything  ? 9  ( My 
dear  lady/  said  I,  with  as  cheerful  a  front  as  I  could 
put  on,  <I  do  not  think  we  have  struck  anything. 
There  is  nothing  to  strike.'  She  looked  at  me  for  a 
moment  like  an  angel  ready  to  cry,  and  clasping  her 
hands,  she  said,  ( Oh,  tell  me,  sir,  I  pray  you,  sir,  tell 
me  what  has  happened.  My  father  felt  that  shock. 
He  sent  me  to  inquire  about  it.  His  mind  is  dis 
turbed.'  At  that  moment,  before  I  could  make  an 
answer,  there  was  another  jerk  of  the  ship,  and  we 
both  went  down  on  our  knees,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  had 
been  tripped.  I  was  up  in  a  moment,  however,  but 
she  continued  on  her  knees.  I  am  sure  she  was  pray 
ing,  but  very  soon  up  she  sprang.  '  Oh,  what  is  it, 
what  is  it  ?  '  she  cried ;  '  I  must  go  to  my  father.' 

"'I  cannot  tell  you/  said  I;  'I  do  not  know,  but 
don't  be  frightened ;  how  can  such  a  little  shock  hurt 
so  big  a  ship  ? ' 

"  It  was  all  very  well  to  tell  her  not  to  be  fright- 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  177 

ened,  but  when  she  ran  below  she  left  on  deck  about 
as  frightened  a  man  as  ever  stood  in  shoes.  There 
could  be  no  doubt  about  it;  that  horrible  beast  was 
beginning  to  pull  upon  the  ship.  Whether  or  not  it 
would  be  able  to  draw  us  down  below,  was  a  question 
which  must  soon  be  solved. 

"  I  had  had  a  small  opinion  of  the  maid,  who,  when 
I  told  her  the  crew  had  deserted  the  ship,  had  sat 
down  and  covered  her  head ;  but  now  I  did  pretty 
much  the  same  thing;  I  crouched  on  the  deck  and 
pulled  my  cap  over  my  eyes.  I  felt  that  I  did  not 
wish  to  see,  hear,  or  feel  anything. 

"  I  had  sat  in  this  way  for  about  half  an  hour,  and 
had  felt  no  more  shocks,  when  a  slight  gurgling  sound 
came  to  my  ears.  I  listened  for  a  moment,  then 
sprang  to  my  feet.  Could  we  be  moving  ?  I  ran  to 
the  side  of  the  ship.  The  gurgle  seemed  to  be  com 
ing  from  the  stern.  I  hurried  there  and  looked  over. 
The  wheel  had  been  lashed  fast,  and  the  rudder  stood 
straight  out  behind  us.  On  each  side  of  it  there  was 
a  ripple  in  the  quiet  water.  We  were  moving,  and  we 
were  moving  backward ! 

"Overpowered  by  horrible  fascination,  I  stood 
grasping  the  rail,  and  looking  over  at  the  water  be 
neath  me,  as  the  vessel  moved  slowly  and  steadily 
onward,  stern  foremost.  *  In  spite  of  the  upset  condi 
tion  of  my  mind,  I  could  not  help  wondering  why  the 
vessel  should  move  in  this  way. 

"There  was  only  one  explanation  possible:  The 
Water-devil  was  walking  along  the  bottom,  and  tow 
ing  us  after  him !  Why  he  should  pull  us  along  in 


178  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

this  way  I  could  not  imagine,  unless  he  was  making 
for  his  home  in  some  dreadful  cave  at  the  bottom, 
into  which  he  would  sink,  dragging  us  down  after 
him. 

"While  my  mind  was  occupied  with  these  horrible 
subjects,  some  one  touched  me  on  the  arm,  and  turn 
ing,  I  saw  Miss  Minturn.  'Are  we  not  moving?' 
she  said.  'Yes,'  I  answered,  'we  certainly  are.'  'Do 
you  not  think/  she  then  asked,  'that  we  may  have 
been  struck  by  a  powerful  current,  which  is  now  car 
rying  us  onward  ? '  I  did  not  believe  this,  for  there 
was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  there  were  currents 
which  wandered  about,  starting  off  vessels  with  a  jerk, 
but  I  was  glad  to  think  that  this  idea  had  come  into 
her  heajl,  and  said  that  it  was  possible  that  this  might 
be  the  case.  'And  now  we  are  going  somewhere/  she 
said,  speaking  almost  cheerfully.  'Yes,  we  are/  I 
answered,  and  I  had  to  try  hard  not  to  groan  as  I  said 
the  words.  'And  where  do  you  think  we  are  going?' 
she  asked.  It  was  altogether  out  of  my  power  to  tell 
that  sweet  creature  that  in  my  private  opinion  she,  at 
least,  was  going  to  heaven,  and  so  I  answered  that  I 
really  did  not  know.  'Well/  she  said,  'if  we  keep 
moving,  we're  bound  at  last  to  get  near  land,  or  to 
some  place  where  ships  would  pass  near  us.' 

"  There  is  nothing  in  this  *world,"  said  the  marine, 
"  which  does  a  man  so  much  good  in  time  of  danger  as 
to  see  a  hopeful  spirit  in  a  woman  —  that  is,  a  woman 
that  he  cares  about.  Some  of  her  courage  comes  to 
him,  and  he  is  better  and  stronger  for  having  her 
alongside  of  him." 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  179 

Having  made  this  remark,  the  speaker  again  glanced 
at  the  blacksmith's  daughter.  She  had  put  down  her 
work  and  was  looking  at  him  with  an  earnest  bright 
ness  in  her  eyes. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "it  is  astonishing  what  a 
change  came  over  me,  as  I  stood  by  the  side  of  that 
noble  girl.  She  was  a  born  lady,  I  was  a  marine,  just 
the  same  as  we  had  been  before,  but  there  didn't  seem 
to  be  the  difference  between  us  that  there  had  been. 
Her  words,  her  spirits,  everything  about  her,  in  fact, 
seemed  to  act  on  me,  to  elevate  me,  to  fill  my  soul 
with  noble  sentiments,  to  make  another  man  of  me. 
Standing  there  beside  her,  I  felt  myself  her  equal.  In 
life  or  death  I  would  not  be  ashamed  to  say,  'Here 
I  am,  ready  to  stand  by  you,  whatever  happens.' " 

Having  concluded  this  sentiment,  the  marine  again 
glanced  toward  the  blacksmith's  daughter.  Her  eyes 
were  slightly  moist,  and  her  face  was  glowing  with  a 
certain  enthusiasm. 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  I  suppose  that 
woman  goes  along  with  you  into  the  very  maw  of  the 
sunken  Devil,  but  I  do  wish  you  could  take  her  more 
for  granted,  and  get  on  faster  with  the  real  part  of 
the  story." 

"  One  part  is  as  real  as  another,"  said  the  marine ; 
"  but  on  we  go,  and  on  we  did  go  for  the  whole  of  the 
rest  of  that  day,  at  the  rate  of  about  half  a  knot  an 
hour,  as  near  as  I  could  guess  at  it.  The  weather 
changed,  and  a  dirty  sort  of  fog  came  down  on  us,  so 
that  we  couldn't  see  far  in  any  direction. 

"  Why  that  Water-devil  should  keep  on  towing  us, 


180  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

and  where  he  was  going  to  take  us,  were  things  I 
didn't  dare  to  think  about.  The  fog  did  not  prevent 
me  from  seeing  the  water  about  our  stern,  and  I 
leaned  over  the  rail,  watching  the  ripples  that  flowed 
on  each  side  of  the  rudder,  which  showed  that  we 
were  still  going  at  about  the  same  uniform  rate. 

"But  toward  evening  the  gurgling  beneath  me 
ceased,  and  I  could  see  that  the  rudder  no  longer 
parted  the  quiet  water,  and  that  we  had  ceased  to 
move.  A  flash  of  hope  blazed  up  within  me.  Had 
the  Water-devil  found  the  ship  too  heavy  a  load,  and 
had  he  given  up  the  attempt  to  drag  it  to  its  under- 
ocean  cave?  I  went  below  and  had  my  supper;  I 
was  almost  a  happy  man.  When  Miss  Minturn  came 
to  ask  me  how  we  were  getting  along,  I  told  her  that 
I  thought  we  were  doing  very  well  indeed.  I  did  not 
mention  that  we  had  ceased  to  move,  for  she  thought 
that  a  favorable  symptom.  She  went  back  to  her 
quarters  greatly  cheered  up.  Not  so  much,  I  think, 
from  my  words,  as  from  my  joyful  aspect ;  for  I  did 
feel  jolly,  there  was  no  doubt  about  it.  If  that  Water- 
devil  had  let  go  of  us,  I  was  willing  to  take  all  the 
other  chances  that  might  befall  a  ship  floating  about 
loose  on  the  Bay  of  Bengal. 

"  The  fog  was  so  thick  that  night  that  it  was  damp 
and  unpleasant  on  deck,  and  so,  having  hung  out  and 
lighted  a  couple  of  lanterns,  I  went  below  for  a  com 
fortable  smoke  in  the  captain's  room.  I  was  puffing 
away  here  at  my  ease,  with  my  mind  filled  with 
happy  thoughts  of  two  or  three  weeks  with  Miss 
Minturn  on  this  floating  paradise,  where  she  was 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  181 

bound  to  see  a  good  deal  of  me,  and  couldn't  help 
liking  me  better,  and  depending  on  me  more  and 
more  every  day,  when  I  felt  a  little  jerking  shock. 
It  was  the  same  thing  that  we  had  felt  before.  The 
Water-devil  still  had  hold  of  us ! 

"I  dropped  my  pipe,  my  chin  fell  upon  my  breast, 
I  shivered  all  over.  In  a  few  moments  I  heard  the 
maid  calling  to  me,  and  then  she  ran  into  the  room. 
'  Miss  Minturn  wants  to  know,  sir/  she  said,  '  if  you 
think  that  shock  is  a  sudden  twist  in  the  current 
which  is  carrying  us  on  ?  '  I  straightened  myself  up 
as  well  as  I  could,  and  in  the  dim  light  I  do  not  think 
she  noticed  my  condition.  I  answered  that  I  thought 
it  was  something  of  that  sort,  and  she  went  away. 

"  More  likely,  a  twist  of  the  Devil's  arm,  I  thought, 
as  I  sat  there  alone  in  my  misery. 

"  In  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  there  came  two  shocks, 
not  very  far  apart.  This  showed  that  the  creature 
beneath  us  was  at  work  in  some  way  or  another.  Per 
haps  he  had  reached  the  opening  of  his  den,  and  was 
shortening  up  his  arm  before  he  plunged  down  into  it 
with  us  after  him.  I  couldn't  stay  any  longer  in  that 
room  alone.  I  looked  for  the  maid,  but  she  had  put  out 
the  galley  light,  and  had  probably  turned  in  for  the 
night. 

"  I  went  up,  and  looked  out  on  deck,  but  everything 
was  horribly  dark  and  sticky  and  miserable  there.  I 
noticed  that  my  lanterns  were  not  burning,  and  then 
I  remembered  that  I  had  not  filled  them.  But  this 
did  not  trouble  me.  If  a  vessel  came  along  and  saw 
our  lights  she  would  probably  keep  away  from  us,  and 


182  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

I  would  have  been  glad  to  have  a  vessel  come  to  us, 
even  if  she  ran  into  us.  Our  steamer  would  probably 
float  long  enough  for  us  to  get  on  board  the  other  one, 
and  almost  anything  would  be  better  than  being  left 
alone  in  this  dreadful  place,  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Water-devil. 

"  Before  I  left  the  deck  I  felt  another  shock.  This 
took  out  of  me  whatever  starch  was  left,  and  I  shuf 
fled  below  and  got  to  my  bunk,  where  I  tumbled  in 
and  covered  myself  up,  head  and  all.  If  there  had 
been  any  man  to  talk  to,  it  would  have  been  different, 
but  I  don't  know  when  I  ever  felt  more  deserted  than 
I  did  at  that  time. 

"I  tried  to  forget  the  awful  situation  in  which  I 
was ;  I  tried  to  think  of  other  things ;  to  imagine  that 
I  was  drilling  with  the  rest  of  my  company,  with  Tom 
Eogers  on  one  side  of  me,  and  old  Humphrey  Peters 
on  the  other.  You  may  say,  perhaps,  that  this  wasn't 
exactly  the  way  of  carrying  out  my  promise  of  taking 
care  of  Miss  Minturn  and  the  others.  But  what  was 
there  to  do  ?  When  the  time  carne  to  do  anything, 
and  I  could  see  what  to  do,  I  was  ready  to  do  it ;  but 
there  was  no  use  of  waking  them  up  now  and  setting 
their  minds  on  edge,  when  they  were  all  comfortable 
in  their  beds,  thinking  that  every  jerk  of  the  Devil's 
arm  was  a  little  twist  in  the  current  that  was  carrying 
them  to  Calcutta  or  some  other  desirable  port. 

"  I  felt  some  shocks  after  I  got  into  bed,  but  whether 
or  not  there  were  many  in  the  night,  I  don't  know,  for 
I  went  to  sleep.  It  was  daylight  when  I  awoke,  and 
jumping  out  of  my  bunk  I  dashed  on  deck.  Every- 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  183 

thing  seemed  pretty  much  as  it  had  been,  and  the  fog 
was  as  thick  as  ever.  I  ran  to  the  stern  and  looked 
over,  and  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  eyes  when  I  saw 
that  we  were  moving  again,  still  stern  foremost,  but  a 
little  faster  than  before.  That  beastly  Water-devil 
had  taken  a  rest  for  the  night,  and  had  probably  given 
us  the  shocks  by  turning  over  in  his  sleep,  and  now  he 
was  off  again,  making  up  for  lost  time. 

"  Pretty  soon  Miss  Minturn  came  on  deck,  and  bade 
me  good  morning,  and  then  she  went  and  looked  over 
the  stern.  '  We  are  still  moving  on/  she  said,  with  a 
'smile,  '  and  the  fog  doesn't  seem  to  make  any  differ 
ence.  It  surely  cannot  be  long  before  we  get  some 
where.'  <]STo,  miss/  said  I,  'it  cannot  be  very  long/ 
'  You  look  tired/  she  said,  <  and  I  don't  wonder,  for  you 
must  feel  the  heavy  responsibility  on  you.  I  have 
told  my  maid  to  prepare  breakfast  for  you  in  our 
cabin.  I  want  my  father  to  know  you,  and  I  think  it 
is  a  shame  that  you,  the  only  protector  that  we  have, 
should  be  shut  off  so  much  by  yourself ;  so  after  this 
we  shall  eat  together.'  '  After  this/  I  groaned  to  my 
self,  'we  shall  be  eaten  together.'  At  that  moment  I  did 
not  feel  that  I  wanted  to  breakfast  with  Miss  Minturn." 

"Mr.  Cardly,"  said  Mr.  Harberry  to  the  school 
master,  "  have  you  ever  read,  in  any  of  your  scientific 
books,  that  the  Bay  of  Bengal  is  subject  to  heavy  fogs 
that  last  day  after  day  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say,"  answered  the  school-master,  "  that 
my  researches  into  the  geographical  distribution  of 
fogs  have  resulted  —  " 

"As  to  fogs,"  interrupted  the  marine,  "you  can't 


184  THE   WATEE-DEVIL. 

get  rid  of  them,  you  know.  If  you  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  going  to  sea,  you  would  know  that  you  are 
likely  to  run  into  a  fog  at  any  time,  and  in  any 
weather ;  and  as  to  lasting,  they  are  just  as  likely  to 
last  for  days  as  for  hours.  It  wasn't  the  fog  that 
surprised  me.  I  did  not  consider  that  of  any  account 
at  all.  I  had  enough  other  things  to  occupy  my 
mind."  And  having  settled  this  little  matter,  .he 
went  on  with  his  story. 

"  Well,  my  friends,  I  did  not  breakfast  with  Miss 
Minturn  and  her  father.  Before  that  meal  was  ready, 
and  while  I  was  standing  alone  at  the  stern,  I  saw' 
coming  out  of  the  water,  a  long  way  off  in  the  fog, 
which  must  have  been  growing  thinner  about  this 
time,  a  dark  and  mysterious  object,  apparently  with 
out  any  shape  or  form.  This  sight  made  the  teeth 
chatter  in  my  head.  I  had  expected  to  be  pulled 
down  to  the  Water-devil,  but  I  had  never  imagined 
that  he  would  come  up  to  us  ! 

"While  my  eyes  were  glued  upon  this  apparition, 
I  could  see  that  we  were  approaching  it.  When  I 
perceived  this,  I  shut  my  eyes  and  turned  my  back  — 
I  could  look  upon  it  no  longer.  My  mind  seemed  to 
forsake  me ;  I  did  not  even  try  to  call  out  and  give 
the  alarm  to  the  others.  Why  should  I  ?  What 
could  they  do  ?  " 

"  If  it  had  been  me,"  said  Mrs.  Fryker,  in  a  sort  of 
gasping  whisper,  "  I  should  have  died  right  there." 
The  marine  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
blacksmith's  daughter.  She  was  engaged  with  her 
work,  and  was  not  looking  at  him. 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  185 

"I  cannot  say,"  lie  continued,  "that,  had  Miss 
Minturn  been  there  at  that  moment,  that  I  would  not 
have  declared  that  I  was  ready  to  die  for  her  or  with 
her ;  but  there  was  no  need  of  trying  to  keep  up  her 
courag%e,  that  was  all  right.  She  knew  nothing  of 
our  danger.  That  terrible  knowledge  pressed  on  me 
alone.  Is  it  wonderful  that  a  human  soul  should 
sink  a  little  under  such  an  awful  load  ?  "  Without 
turning  to  observe  the  effect  of  these  last  words,  the 
marine  went  on.  "Suddenly  I  heard  behind  me  a 
most  dreadful  sound.  'Good  Heavens/  I  exclaimed, 
'  can  a  Water-devil  bray  ? ' 

"  The  sound  was  repeated.  Without  knowing  what 
I  did,  I  turned.  I  heard  what  sounded  like  words ;  I 
saw  in  the  fog  the  stern  of  a  vessel,  with  a  man  above 
it,  shouting  to  me  through  a  speaking-trumpet. 

"I  do  not  know  what  happened  next ;  my  mind  must 
have  become  confused.  When  I  regained  my  senses, 
Miss  Minturn,  old  Mr.  Minturn,  and  the  maid  were 
standing  by  me.  The  man  had  stopped  shouting  from 
his  trumpet,  and  a  boat  was  being  lowered  from  the 
other  ship.  In  about  ten  minutes  there  were  half-a- 
dozen  men  on  board  of  us,  all  in  the  uniform  of  the 
British  navy.  I  was  stiff  enough  now,  and  felt  my 
self  from  top  to  toe  a  regular  marine  in  the  service  of 
my  country.  I  stepped  up  to  the  officer  in  command 
and  touched  my  cap. 

"He  looked  at  me  and  my  companions  in  surprise, 
and  then  glancing  along  the  deck,  said,  '  What  .has 
happened  to  this  vessel  ?  Who  is  in  command  ?  '  I 
informed  him,  that,  strictly  speaking,  no  one  was  in 


186  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

command,  but  that  I  represented  the  captain,  officers, 
and  crew  of  this  steamer,  the  General  Brooks,  from 
San  Francisco  to  Calcutta,  and  I  then  proceeded  to 
tell  him  the  whole  story  of  our  misfortunes ;  and  con 
cluded  by  telling  the  officer,  that  if  we  had  not  moved 
since  his  vessel  had  come  in  sight,  it  was  probably 
because  the  Water-devil  had  let  go  of  us,  and  was  pre 
paring  to  make  fast  to  the  other  ship ;  and  therefore 
it  would  be  advisable  for  us  all  to  get  on  board  his 
vessel,  and  steam  away  as  quickly  as  possible. 

"The  Englishmen  looked  at  me  in  amazement. 
1  Drunk!'  ejaculated  the  officer  I  had  addressed. 
' Cracked,  I  should  say/  suggested  another.  'Now/ 
spoke  up  Mr.  Minturn,  '  I  do  not  understand  what  I 
have  just  heard/  he  said.  '  What  is  a  Water-devil  ? 
I  am  astounded.7  '  You  never  said  a  word  of  this  to 
me  ! '  exclaimed  Miss  Minturn.  '  You  never  told  me 
that  we  were  in  the  grasp  of  a  Water-devil,  and  that 
that  was  the  reason  the  captain  and  the  crew  ran 
away.'  'No/  said  I,  'I  never  divulged  the  dreadful 
danger  we  were  in.  I  allowed  you  to  believe  that  we 
were  in  the  influence  of  a  current,  and  that  the  shocks 
we  felt  were  the  sudden  twists  of  that  current.  The 
terrible  truth  I  kept  to  myself.  Not  for  worlds  would 
I  have  made  known  to  a  tenderly  nurtured  lady,  to 
her  invalid  father,  and  devoted  servant,  what  might 
have  crushed  their  souls,  driven  them  to  the  borders 
of  frenzy ;  in  which  case  the  relief  which  now  has 
come  to  us  would  have  been  of  no  avail.' 

"The  officer  stood  and  steadily  stared  at  me.  'I 
declare/  he  said,  'you  do  not  look  like  a  crazy  man. 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  187 

At  what  time  did  this  Water-devil  begin  to  take  you 
in  tow  ? ' 

"  'Yesterday  morning/  I  answered.  '  And  he  stopped 
during  last  night  ? '  he  asked.  I  replied  that  that  was 
the  case.  Then  he  took  off  his  cap,  rubbed  his  head, 
and  stood  silent  for  a  minute.  '  We'll  look  into  this 
matter ! '  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  and  turning,  he  and 
his  party  left  us  to  ourselves.  The  boat  was  now  sent 
back  with  a  message  to  the  English  vessel,  and  the 
officers  and  men  who  remained  scattered  themselves 
over  our  steamer,  examining  the  engine-room,  hold, 
and  every  part  of  her. 

"I  was  very  much  opposed  to  all  this  delay;  for 
although  the  Englishmen  might  doubt  the  existence  of 
the  Water-devil,  I  saw  no  reason  to  do  so,  and  in  any 
case  I  was  very  anxious  to  be  on  the  safe  side  by  get 
ting  away  as  soon  as  possible ;  but,  of  course,  British 
officers  would  not  be  advised  by  me,  and  as  I  was 
getting  very  hungry  I  went  down  to  breakfast.  I  ate 
this  meal  alone,  for  my  fellow-passengers  seemed  to 
have  no  desire  for  food. 

"I  cannot  tell  all  that  happened  during  the  next 
hour,  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  did  not  understand  every 
thing  that  was  done.  The  boat  passed  several  times 
between  the  two  vessels,  bringing  over  a  number  of 
men  —  two  of  them  scientific  fellows,  I  think.  Another 
was  a  diver,  whose  submarine  suit  and  air-pumping 
machines  came  over  with  him.  He  was  lowered  over 
the  side,  and  after  he  had  been  down  about  fifteen 
minutes  he  was  hauled  up  again,  and  down  below  was 
the  greatest  hammering  and  hauling  that  ever  you 


188  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

heard.  The  General  Brooks  was  put  in  charge  of  an 
officer  and  some  men ;  a  sail  was  hoisted  to  keep  her 
in  hand,  so  that  she  wouldn't  drift  into  the  other  ship ; 
and  in  the  rnidst  of  all  the  rowdy-dow  we  were  told 
that  if  we  liked  we  might  go  on  board  the  English 
vessel  immediately. 

"Miss  Minturn  and  her  party  instantly  accepted 
this  invitation,  and  althougn  under  ordinary  circum 
stances  I  would  have  remained  to  see  for  myself  what 
these  people  found  out,  I  felt  a  relief  in  the  thought 
of  leaving  that  vessel  which  is  impossible  for  me  to 
express,  and  I  got  into  the  boat  with  the  others. 

"We  were  treated  very  handsomely  on  board  the 
English  vessel,  which  was  a  mail  steamship,  at  that 
time  in  the  employment  of  the  English  Government. 
I  told  my  story  at  least  half-a-dozen  times,  sometimes 
to  the  officers  and  sometimes  to  the  men,  and  whether 
they  believed  me  or  not,  I  don't  think  any  one  ever 
created  a  greater  sensation  with  a  story  of  the  sea. 

"  In  an  hour  or  so  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  opera 
tions  on  the  General  Brooks  came  aboard.  As  he 
passed  me  on  his  way  to  the  captain,  he  said,  'We 
found  your  Water-devil,  my  man.'  i  And  he  truly  had 
us  in  tow  ?  7  I  cried.  '  Yes,  you  are  perfectly  correct/ 
he  said,  and  went  on  to  make  his  report  to  the  cap 
tain."  * 

"Now,  then,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "I  suppose  we 
are  going  to  get  to  the  pint.  What  did  he  report  ?  " 

"I  didn't  hear  his  report/7  said  the  marine,  "but 
everybody  soon  knew  what  had  happened  to  our  un 
lucky  vessel,  and  I  can  give  you  the  whole  story  of  it. 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  189 

The  General  Brooks  sailed  from  San  Francisco  to  Cal 
cutta,  with  a  cargo  of  stored  electricity,  contained  in 
large,  strongly  made  boxes.  This  I  knew  nothing 
about,  not  being  in  the  habit  of  inquiring  into  car 
goes.  Well,  in  some  way  or  other,  which  I  don't 
understand,  not  being  a  scientific  man  myself,  a  mag 
netic  connection  was  formed  between  these  boxes,  and 
also,  if  I  got  the  story  straight,  between  them  and  the 
iron  hull  of  our  vessel,  so  that  it  became,  in  fact,  an 
enormous  floating  magnet,  one  of  the  biggest  things  of 
the  kind  on  record.  I  have  an  idea  that  this  magnetic 
condition  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble  to  our  ma 
chinery  ;  every  separate  part  of  it  was  probably  turned 
to  a  magnet,  and  they  all  stuck  together." 

"  Mr.  Cardly,"  said  Mr.  Harberry  to  the  school 
master,  "  I  do  not  suppose  you  have  given  much  at 
tention  to  the  study  of  commerce,  and  therefore  are 
not  prepared  to  give  us  any  information  in  regard  to 
stored  electricity  as  an  article  of  export  from  this 
country;  but  perhaps  you  can  tell  us  what  stored  elec 
tricity  is,  and  how  it  is  put  into  boxes." 

"In  regard  to  the  transportation,"  answered  the 
school-master,  speaking  a  little  slowly,  "of  encased 
electric  potency,  I  cannot  —  " 

66  Oh,  bless  me  ! "  interrupted  the  marine  ;  "  that  is  all 
simple  enough ;  you  can  store  electricity  and  send  it 
all  over  the  world,  if  you  like ;  in  places  like  Calcutta, 
I  think  it  must  be  cheaper  to  buy  it  than  to  make  it. 
They  use  it  as  a  motive  power  for  sewing-machines, 
apple-parers,  and  it  can  be  used  in  a  lot  of  ways,  such 
as  digging  post-holes  and  churning  butter.  When  the 


190  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

stored  electricity  in  a  box  is  all  used  up,  all  you  have 
to  do  is  to  connect  a  fresh  box  with  your  machinery, 
and  there  you  are,  ready  to  start  again.  There  was 
nothing  strange  about  our  cargo.  It  was  the  elec 
tricity  leaking  out  and  uniting  itself  and  the  iron  ship 
into  a  sort  of  conglomerate  magnet  that  was  out  of 
the  way." 

"  Mr.  Cardly,"  said  Mr.  Harberry,  "  if  an  iron  ship 
were  magnetized  in  that  manner,  wouldn't  it  have  a 
deranging  effect  upon  the  needle  of  the  compass  ?" 

The  marine  did  not  give  the  school-master  time  to 
make  answer.  "Generally  speaking,"  said  he,  "that 
sort  of  thing  would  interfere  with  keeping  the  vessel 
on  its  proper  course,  but  with  us  it  didn't  make  any 
difference  at  all.  The  greater  part  of  the  ship  was  in 
front  of  the  binnacle  where  they  keep  the  compass, 
and  so  the  needle  naturally  pointed  that  way,  and  as 
we  were  going  north  before  a  south  wind,  it  was  all 
right. 

"Being  a  floating  magnet,  of  course,  did  not  pre 
vent  our  sailing,  so  we  went  along  well  enough  until 
we  came  to  longitude  90°,  latitude  15°  north.  Now 
it  so  happened  that  a  telegraphic  cable  which  had 
been  laid  down  by  the  British  Government  to  estab 
lish  communication  between  Madras  and  Rangoon, 
had  broken  some  time  before,  and  not  very  far  from 
this  point. 

"Now  you  can  see  for  yourselves  that  when  an 
enormous  mass  of  magnetic  iron,  in  the  shape  of 
the  General  Brooks,  came  sailing  along  there,  the 
part  of  that  cable  which  lay  under  us  was  so  attracted 


THE   WATER-DEVIL.  191 

by  such  a  powerful  and  irresistible  force  that  its 
broken  end  raised  itself  from  the  bottom  of  the  bay 
and  reached  upward  until  it  touched  our  ship,  when 
it  laid  itself  along  our  keel,  to  which  it  instantly  be 
came  fastened  as  firmly  as  if  it  had  been  bolted  and 
riveted  there.  Then,  as  the  rest  of  this  part  of  the 
cable  was  on  the  bottom  of  the  bay  all  the  way  to 
Madras,  of  course  we  had  to  stop;  that's  simple 
enough.  That's  the  way  the  Water-devil  held  us  fast 
in  one  spot  for  two  days. 

"  The  British  Government  determined  not  to  repair 
this  broken  cable,  but  to  take  it  up  and  lay  down  a 
better  one;  so  they  chartered  a  large  steamer,  and 
fitted  her  up  with  engines,  and  a  big  drum  that  they 
use  for  that  sort  of  thing,  and  set  her  to  work  to 
wind  up  the  Madras  end  of  the  broken  cable.  She 
had  been  at  this  business  a  good  while  before  we 
were  caught  by  the  other  end,  and  when  they  got 
near  enough  to  us  for  their  engines  to  be  able  to 
take  up  the  slack  from  the  bottom  between  us  and 
them,  then  of  course  they  pulled  upon  us,  and  we 
began  to  move.  And  when  they  lay  to  for  the 
night,  and  stopped  the  winding  business,  of  course 
we  stopped,  and  the  stretch  of  cable  between  the  two 
ships  had  no  effect  upon  us,  except  when  the  big  mail 
steamer  happened  to  move  this  way  or  that,  as  they 
kept  her  head  to  the  wind ;  and  that's  the  way  we  lay 
quiet  all  night  except  when  we  got  our  shocks. 

"When  they  set  the  drum  going  again  in  the 
morning,  it  wasn't  long  before  they  wound  us  near 
enough  for  them  to  see  us,  which  they  would  have 


192  THE   WATER-DEVIL. 

done  sooner  if  my  lights  hadn't  gone  out  so  early 
in  the  evening/' 

"  And  that/7  said  the  blacksmith,  with  a  somewhat 
severe  expression  on  his  face,  "is  all  that  you  have 
to  tell  about  your  wonderful  Water-devil !  " 

"  All ! "  said  the  marine ;  "  I  should  say  it  was 
quite  enough,  and  nothing  could  be  more  wonderful 
than  what  really  happened.  A  Water-devil  is  one  of 
two  things :  he  is  real,  or  he's  not  real.  If  he's  not 
real,  he^s  no  more  than  an  ordinary  spook  or  ghost, 
and  is  not  to  be  practically  considered.  If  he's  real, 
then  he's  an  alive  animal,  and  can  be  put  in  a  class 
with  other  animals,  and  described  in  books,  because 
even  if  nobody  sees  him,  the  scientific  men  know  how 
he  must  be  constructed,  and  then  he's  no  more  than 
a  great  many  other  wonderful  things,  which  we  can 
see  alive,  stuffed,  or  in  plaster  casts. 

"  But  if  you  want  to  put  your  mind  upon  something 
really  wonderful,  just  think  of  a  snake-like  rope  of 
wire,  five  or  six  hundred  miles  long,  lying  down  at 
the  very  bottom  of  the  great  Bay  of  Bengal,  with  no 
more  life  in  it  than  there  is  in  a  ten-penny  nail. 

"Then  imagine  that  long,  dead  wire  snake  to  be 
suddenly  filled  with  life,  and  to  know  that  there  was 
something  far  up  above  it,  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  that  it  wants  to  reach  up  to  and  touch.  Think 
of  it  lifting  and  flapping  its  broken  end,  and  then  im 
agine  it  raising  yard  after  yard  of  itself  up  and  up, 
through  the  solemn  water,  more  and  more  of  it  lift 
ing  itself  from  the  bottom,  curling  itself  backward 
and  forward  as  it  rises  higher  and  higher,  until  at 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  193 

last,  with  a  sudden  jump  that  must  have  ripped  a 
mile  or  more  of  it  from  the  bottom,  it  claps  its  end 
against  the  thing  it  wants  to  touch,  and  which  it  can 
neither  see,  nor  hear,  nor  smell,  but  which  it  knows 
is  there.  Could  there  be  anything  in  this  world  more 
wonderful  than  that  ? 

"  And  then,  if  that  isn't  enough  of  a  wonder,  think 
of  the  Rangoon  end  of  that  cable  squirming  and  wrig 
gling  and  stretching  itself  out  toward  our  ship,  but 
not  being  able  to  reach  us  on  account  of  a  want  of 
slack ;  just  as  alive  as  the  Madras  part  of  the  cable, 
and  just  as  savage  and  frantic  to  get  up  to  us  and  lay 
hold  of  us  ;  and  then,  after  our  vessel  had  been  gradu 
ally  pulled  away  from  it,  think  of  this  other  part  get 
ting  weaker  and  weaker,  minute  by  minute,  until  it 
falls  flat  on  the  bay,  as  dead  as  any  other  iron 
thing ! " 

The  marine  ceased  to  speak,  and  Mrs.  Fryker 
heaved  a  sigh. 

"It  makes  me  shiver  to  think  of  all  that  down  so 
deep,"  she  said;  "but  I  must  say  I  am  disappointed." 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  asked  the  marine. 

"A  Water-devil,"  said  she,  "as  big  as  six  whales, 
and  with  a  funnelly  mouth  to  suck  in  people,  is  differ 
ent;  but,  of  course,  after  all,  it  was  better  as  it  was." 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  what  became 
of  the  girl  ?  I  wanted  her  finished  up  long  ago,  and 
you  haven't  done  it  yet." 

"  Miss  Minturn,  you  mean,"  said  the  marine. 
"Well,  there  is  not  much  to  say  about  her.  Things 
happened  in  the  usual  way.  When  the  danger  was 


194  THE    WATER-DEVIL. 

all  over,  when  she  had  other  people  to  depend  upon 
besides  me,  and  we  were  on  board  a  fine  steamer,  with 
a  lot  of  handsomely  dressed  naval  officers,  and  going 
comfortably  to  Madras,  of  course  she  thought  no  more 
of  the  humble  sea-soldier  who  once  stood  between  her 
and  —  nobody  knew  what.  In  fact,  the  only  time  she 
spoke  to  me  after  we  got  on  board  the  English 
steamer,  she  made  me  feel,  although  she  didn't  say 
it  in  words,  that  she  was  not  at  all  obliged  to  me  for 
supposing  that  she  would  have  been  scared  to  death 
if  I  had  told  her  about  the  Water-devil." 

"I  suppose,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "by  the  time 
you  got  back  to  your  ship  you  had  overstayed  your 
leave  of  absence  a  good  while.  Did  your  captain  let 
you  off  when  you  told  him  this  story  of  the  new- 
fashioned  Water-devil  ?  " 

The  marine  smiled.  "I  never  went  back  to  the 
Apache"  he  said.  "When  I  arrived  at  Madras  I 
found  that  she  had  sailed  from  Calcutta.  It  was,  of 
course,  useless  for  me  to  endeavor  to  follow  her,  and 
I  therefore  concluded  to  give  up  the  marine  service 
for  a  time  and  go  into  another  line  of  business,  about 
which  it  is  too  late  to  tell  you  now." 

"Mr.  Cardly,"  said  Mr.  Harberry  to  the  school 
master,  "have  you  ever  read  that  the  British  Gov 
ernment  has  a  submarine  cable  from  Madras  to 
Rangoon  ?  " 

The  marine  took  it  upon  himself  to  answer  this 
question.  "The  cable  of  which  I  spoke  to  you,"  he 
said,  "was  taken  up,  as  I  told  you,  and  I  never  heard 
that  another  one  was  laid.  But  it  is  getting  late,  arid 


THE    WATER-DEVIL.  195 

I  think  I  will  go  to  bed ;  I  have  a  long  walk  before 
me  to-morrow."  So  saying  he  rose,  put  his  pipe  upon 
the  mantel-piece,  and  bade  the  company  good  night. 
As  he  did  so,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  blacksmith's 
daughter,  but  that  young  lady  did  not  look  at  him ; 
she  was  busily  reading  the  weekly  newspaper,  which 
her  father  had  left  upon  the  table. 

Mr.  Harberry  now  rose,  preparatory  to  going  home ; 
and  as  he  buttoned  up  his  coat,  he  looked  from  one  to 
another  of  the  little  group,  and  remarked,  "I  have 
often  heard  that  marines  are  a  class  of  men  who  are 
considered  as  fit  subjects  to  tell  tough  stories  to,  but 
it  strikes  me  that  the  time  has  come  when  the  tables 
are  beginning  to  be  turned." 


Typography  by  J.  S.  Pushing  &  Co.,  Boston. 
Presswork  by  Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston. 


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